Letters to Teresa
by Idan
Summary: Some things are better said in writing. Post White Orchids. Chapter 7: The Happiest Place on Earth added. Fluff warning!
1. Bedtime Stories

**Disclaimer**: If I had any rights to The Mentalist, would I be writing fanfic instead of peddling a movie script?

**Author's Note**: This is a birthday present for NorthernLights94, by request. I hope it's not too far off what you wanted and that it's a present worthy of your milestone birthday!

* * *

Patrick Jane loved surprises, and though he was well aware that his wife did not, after a week away from her and his six-week-old daughter he figured he'd earned the right to indulge himself a bit. So he pulled up to the cabin just after midnight, a good eight hours before Teresa was expecting him, and parked far enough away that she wouldn't hear the engine.

The house looked much the same as the day he'd first seen it, at least on the outside. Faced with an immovable deadline, they'd opted to forego the additions for now and focus on renovating the existing structure. They'd brought their baby home to a cozy, well appointed house with a master suite on the ground floor—they intended to grow old in this house after all—a small but functional kitchen, and an upstairs nursery with an adjoining home office.

Lamplight shone from the window of the baby's room, and he smiled as he walked toward it, thinking of the white and yellow room decorated with fluffy bunnies. He'd had a hard time keeping a straight face the first time Teresa had gravitated toward the crib set with the ridiculously floppy eared bunny, but the smile on her face when they got home and unpacked every bunny-themed item the store had offered made it worth it. And now she was doubtless sitting in the big white rocking chair nursing their little miracle, humming an 80s rock ballad or murmuring a quiet prayer. He could picture it so clearly, and suddenly even another minute of separation was unbearable.

He ran the last distance, going up the porch steps as quietly as possible and punching in the alarm code as he softly closed the door behind him. Pausing to listen, he could hear the gentle murmur of his wife's voice, talking to their daughter in the sweet loving tones she reserved for her family. The stress of the past week fell away as he let the sound wash over him.

Creeping up the stairs, he began to focus on making out words. She wasn't singing, and it didn't sound like she was talking to the baby. The rhythm of her speech suggested reading. Maybe one of the cloth books they'd bought?

Peeking into the room, he saw Teresa settled in the rocking chair, their baby suckling at her breast, just as he'd imagined. But she was holding a piece of paper in her free hand, reading aloud from it by the soft glow of the lamp.

"_The sunrises here are beautiful. Breathtaking even. I know you are not a connoisseur of sunrises, grumpy morning hater that you are, but there is nothing like a brilliant sunrise over water. I often walk out to the beach to savor it before settling down to my first cup of tea_."

The words were familiar. More than that, they were his. He remembered writing that in one of his early letters from exile, when he'd missed her so fiercely that sometimes he could hardly breathe.

He noticed the box at her feet, filled with folded papers identical to the one she was holding. She'd kept them all. He was touched, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. She'd even kept the pieces of his teacup, after all. Though at least those weren't proof she was in contact with a fugitive and had failed to report it, endangering her job and possibly her freedom. He'd always assumed she'd destroyed them as soon as she read them, to prevent them falling into Abbott's hands.

"_This morning I met a little girl on the beach. Her long, curly dark hair and suspicious gaze reminded me irresistibly of you. She obviously thought I was up to no good and followed me a little ways up the coast, darting from rock to rock like a miniature secret agent. She may not be CBI material, but I enjoyed the game while it lasted. I hope I will see her again sometime._

_"It's nice to play a game with no stakes for a change. A relief. I hope you are being careful, no matter how quiet your life may seem. The only thing that troubles me in this new life is not knowing that you are safe. That you are well. That despite the CBI being pulled out from under you, you have managed to find some measure of happiness. I will always regret not being there to support you in what must surely be trying times. Maybe it will give you comfort to know that I am thinking about you. Or maybe you are rolling your eyes at me, insulted that I think I could ever be any use to you. I can't know, so I choose to believe the former_.

"Your daddy is very silly sometimes, lightning bug. Isn't he?"

Patrick grinned, stepping into the doorway. "Now, don't go disillusioning our daughter at such a young age."

Teresa jumped in surprise, causing the baby to let out a cranky cry. By the time Patrick crossed the room, Teresa had gotten her latched on again, and she suckled vigorously as her father bent to kiss her mother. "You're early," Teresa said, smiling as he bent to kiss the baby's head.

"I couldn't spend another night away. I missed you too much. But I have to say I'm surprised at your choice of bedtime reading for our daughter." He leaned over to pick up the box, noting that the papers showed significant signs of handling.

Teresa blushed a little. "I...used to read them when I missed you. And it's not like she understands."

"You missed me a lot, huh?" Looking closely, Jane could see that some of the letters were very worn indeed.

"Yeah. I did," she admitted, looking down at the baby. "She's falling asleep again."

"Let me take her." Jane set the box down and gently lifted his drowsing daughter to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp. She was warm and soft and smelled of baby powder and her mother's milk, and Jane closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by a rush of gratitude that this was his life.

"We both missed you," Teresa said. "She's been fussy at night."

Jane smiled. In addition to his eyes and long fingers, Clarissa had inherited his night owl tendencies. He treasured the quiet, dark hours when they kept each other company, since Teresa persisted in believing nighttime was for sleeping. "She's our little lightning bug. Brightens up the night, sleeps during the day."

"I just hope we can get her on a more normal schedule before I go back to work," Teresa sighed.

"Go on back to bed. I'll put her down and be there in a minute."

Teresa chuckled. "Oh, no. I've fallen for that one before. If I do that, you'll stand here and watch her sleep until the sun comes up." She got out of the chair and rubbed his arm affectionately. "I had a doctor's appointment yesterday."

"All's well?" He looked at her in concern.

"Mm hm. In fact, she said I've healed enough for sex. If you're interested." She leaned her head on his shoulder and yawned.

"Interested? Definitely." It had been a long couple of months since she'd had any interest, and he was looking forward to mapping the changes in her body. "But maybe we should try to get a few consecutive hours of sleep first, hm?"

"Mmm. Sleep." She tugged at his arm. "Your turn to get up with her next."

"Absolutely," he promised, letting her lead him out of the room.

mmm

Clarissa woke him just before sunup, wanting a fresh diaper and her breakfast. Jane took care of the first before carrying her downstairs to her drowsy mother, who remained half asleep while feeding her. Then he took his daughter back upstairs to burp her. She was bright-eyed and animated, signaling she wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, so he played with her for a while, dancing her stuffed bunny around while telling her about the beauty of ballet.

Then she looked straight at him and smiled.

Jane felt his heart give a funny leap, falling in love with her all over again. "Glad to see me, beautiful girl? Did you miss my voice?" He knew babies usually responded to voices before faces, and she was on the early side for smiling. But then he wasn't surprised that someone with a mix of his genes and Teresa's would be quick on the uptake. "If I ever have to be gone again, I'll have Mommy hold the phone so I can talk to you. But I shouldn't have to help out Uncle Cho anymore once Mommy goes back to work. So it will probably be the other way around."

She smiled again, kicking her legs in excitement. Jane played "got your toes" with her for a minute. "My bright girl. You know why we named you Clarissa, right? Because we knew you would brighten our lives. And you do. Everyday. Yes, you do." He glanced at the window. "And now the sun is coming up. Shall we get some tea, hm? We'll let Mommy sleep, but I'd like a cup."

As he picked her up, he noticed the box of letters, still on the dresser. So he stopped by the desk in the room next door on his way to the kitchen, and when his tea was ready, sat down to sip from his mended teacup and write a new letter, glancing at Clarissa safely strapped into her bouncy seat.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_It means more than I can express that you kept my letters, despite the risk they posed to you. And to find you reading them to our daughter because you missed me, even though we spoke on the phone several times a day, touched me deeply. But at the same time, I want to give you something better than letters from a fugitive who was too cowardly to speak openly of his love and longing. You should never have to read between the lines again when it comes to my feelings for you._

_For a long time I told myself I could never love again. You can understand the fear that comes with a great loss. It seemed so much easier, safer, to tell myself and everyone else that my heart died with my first wife and was buried in her grave. But as the years went by it became obvious that things weren't that simple. My heart was broken, yes. But you are very good at piecing things back together._

_How can I ever find words good enough, grand enough, to tell you all the ways you've saved me? Every time I look at Clarissa I think of how she is the proof of your loving, steadfast heart. You gave me everything you had, all the while knowing I had nothing approaching that worth to give you in return. I hid my love until it was almost too late, but you forgave me. You never seem to run out of forgiveness. That still astonishes me._

_Our daughter is so lucky to have a mother who will never give up on her, never stop forgiving her. No matter how much of a Jane she turns out to be, she will always be welcome in your arms. I am perhaps the only other person who will ever be able to appreciate how precious that is._

_She smiled at me for the first time today. I was telling her about ballet, about how difficult the art is for the dancers but how beautiful for the audience. Your love is like that, I think. Only you know what it costs you. But please know that those of us privileged to see and feel it treasure its brilliance, its perfection, its sheer breathtaking beauty. Of all the things I want to teach Clarissa, the most important is to treasure the love in her life. I will never stop telling her how fortunate she is to have a mother like you._

_And I will never stop telling you how fortunate I am to have a wife like you. It was my great good fortune that you were the agent I had to deal with at the CBI all those years ago. If I believed in a deity, that is the first thing I would give thanks for._

_I love you. And unlike me, my love for you is strong and eternal. It will exist, a subtle harmonic in the energy of the universe, until the last star burns out, and beyond. Whatever our future holds, I wanted to put that in writing so you will never forget it._

_I hope our future does not hold many more separations, but I promise to write to you every time we are apart from now on. When you miss me, I want you to have letters to read that remind you not of a time when we were missing each other, but of all the time we've spent loving each other._

_Yours,_

_Patrick_

When he finished his tea, he took a yawning Clarissa back upstairs, laid her in her crib, and carefully folded his letter before tucking it into the box with the others.

Then he went downstairs and crawled in bed with his wife.

"Everything okay?" she murmured as he spooned up behind her.

"Mm hm," he replied. "She smiled at me."

Teresa gave a snort. "I spend a solid week taking care of her on my own, and you waltz in and get a smile. She's a daddy's girl for sure."

"Does that surprise you?" He nuzzled her neck.

"I guess not."

"Cheer up, Teresa my love. It will give you something in common with her. The two of you can bond over your mutual adoration of me."

She gave another snort, this time of amusement, and rolled over to tangle her legs with his. "You're pretty full of yourself for a man who took an entire week to solve a double murder. Used to be you could do that in a couple of days. Getting old? Or just enjoying being able to sleep through the night?"

"I'll admit to being a little rusty, perhaps. But I resent your implication that I spent any unnecessary time away from you and the baby. That was a hurtful thing to say. I demand an apology." He let his hands rove over her backside, squeezing her ass as he teased her.

"Bite me. I'm sleep deprived and still not allowed to drink caffeine since it turns your daughter into a Tasmanian devil," she said, scooting closer so she could rub herself against him. "But I'm really looking forward to that omelet you promised to fix me two days ago."

Jane hummed against her neck as he kissed his way to her collarbone. "Slavedriver." He pushed the strap of her camisole aside so he could plant a line of kisses to her shoulder. Then he paused. "Do you want me to go grab a condom?"

"Hm mm," she said. "I probably won't get pregnant while I'm nursing anyway. But I'd like another baby. Can you make sure it's a boy this time?"

Jane chuckled. "That's not something I can control, love."

"I figure if anyone can, it's you," she teased, unbuttoning his pajama top.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

mmm

Afterward, they pushed their luck by cuddling. Jane figured their daughter was about to interrupt them any minute, but it felt so good to lie in his wife's arms, basking in the afterglow, that he wasn't going to give up a single second of it before he absolutely had to. So when Clarissa started crying again, he buried his face in Teresa's hair and ignored it.

"Up," she said, pushing at him. "I'll get her. You get breakfast."

Jane groaned. "Love you."

She got out of bed, grabbed her robe, and bent to kiss him. "Love you too. Omelet, please."

Jane laid in bed for a few more minutes, until he heard Clarissa's crying give way to Teresa's loving voice. Then he levered himself up, pulled on his boxers, and went to the kitchen to start breakfast.

He was just finishing up when he was suddenly tackled from behind, his wife's arms locking around his ribcage and squeezing. He chuckled until he realized his back was wet with tears, then turned in alarm. "Teresa, what's the matter? Is Clarissa okay?"

"She's fine," she assured him, wiping at her face.

"Then why are you crying?"

"You wrote me a new letter," she said unsteadily. "And it was beautiful."

He sighed in relief, holding her against his bare chest. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry," she mumbled. "But what do you expect when you do something so sweet?"

He chuckled. "Point taken. From now on I'll stick to being a pain in the ass."

"You're always that," she said, swatting him and wiping her eyes. "Where's my breakfast?"

"Right here." He handed her the plate with her favorite omelet and home fries. "Where's the baby?"

"In her crib. She's fine. And she'll let us know if she's not."

"I'll get her. I've missed having both my girls in the same room," he said.

When he came back, Teresa had dished up his plate and refilled his teacup, and they ate breakfast together with Clarissa tucked against his shoulder.

"Thanks for the letter," Teresa said softly when she was finished with her omelet. "For all of them, really. But especially that one."

"You're welcome," he smiled.

"I missed you so much when you were gone. But when I read those letters, it was like you were there with me. Like everything was the way it used to be, sitting in my office late at night, me doing paperwork and you lying on the couch telling me stories." She reached for his hand.

He squeezed hers. "I knew I should stop writing to you. I knew I might be getting you in trouble or leading the FBI to my door. But I couldn't. You were the only person who understood me, and I couldn't give you up. I needed that connection with you."

"I'm glad. And I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"I never want to be apart again," he said. "But if we are, I know we'll always find our way back to each other again."

"Yes," she promised. After a minute, she asked, "Did you ever see her again?"

"Who?"

"The little girl who followed you."

"The one who reminded me of you? No. She must have just been visiting the island. I looked for her though, every morning for a while." He smiled. "After a few weeks I realized I was really looking for you. I used to daydream about finding you on the beach, having come looking for me."

"If you wanted to see me, you should have invited me," she pointed out.

"You might have said no."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "I might not have. You made it sound like paradise, you know."

He smiled. "I'll take you there someday. We can play on the beach with Clarissa, and I'll take you to the post office so the nice ladies who felt sorry for me can see who I was sending all those letters to."

"I'd like that. When the baby's older. Next year maybe."

Jane imagined standing on the beach watching the sun rise with his wife and daughter. Of course, that was just a pipe dream, because at sunrise Teresa would still be in bed asleep. He and Clarissa could enjoy it though. "Our family vacation," he said, loving the way that sounded.

Teresa's smile told him she did too.

When they got the hang of traveling with their daughter, he'd buy the plane tickets as a surprise.

And hide them in the letter box.


	2. Family Vacation

**Author's Note: **So this popped into my head and I had to write it, despite my worry I might not be able to maintain the quality of the first one. I'm leaving this marked complete, but if inspiration strikes I might add some more letters at different points in their life. We'll see. And I must not forget to thank all of you who reviewed the first chapter of this, because you brought me so much joy!

If the Spanish in this is terrible, it's Jane's fault, not because my high school classes were a very long time ago! ;)

To my fellow Americans, I hope you have a fun and safe Fourth!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Family Vacation**

The sky had clouded over while Jane focused on perfecting the turrets of his sand castle, but it didn't smell like rain—and he'd become an expert on the weather patterns during his previous stay on the island. He sat back and took in his work, a little surprised Clarissa hadn't demolished anything while he concentrated. She was a rambunctious 13 month old, always in motion and usually talking, and silence was usually a bad sign.

Rising to his knees, Jane looked around, smiling as he spotted his little princess curled up in the courtyard of the sprawling sand castle, her dark curls sprinkled with sand and her thumb firmly in her rosebud mouth. It was nap time, he realized.

Jane turned to beckon Teresa over, only to find her lying on her side beneath the big umbrella, sound asleep just like their daughter. Definitely nap time, he thought, feeling the grin stretch his cheeks as his gaze lingered on her rounded belly holding his twin sons. They'd discovered she was pregnant shortly after they'd planned this trip, but the fact that there were two babies on the way had taken them by surprise only a day before they left Austin.

Three children under the age of two—he was going to have his hands full. The FBI was just going to have to get along without him; the "as needed" consulting he'd been doing would have to stop when Teresa's maternity leave ended. Quite possibly even sooner. Before the twins arrived, Jane wanted to do some minor renovations to make a fourth bedroom out of his home office. He wasn't going to have time to do any kind of work but childcare for the next several years, and from what he'd read on the plane, twins didn't always do well sharing a room, at least as babies. It would depend on their personalities and sleep schedules. They didn't even know yet whether these twins were identical or fraternal, though Teresa's age and the lack of twins in their families argued for fraternal.

They'd need a lot more baby gear, too, since Clarissa hadn't outgrown most of hers yet. A bigger car to hold three car seats, too.

He had a lot to do, and he knew from experience that Teresa had limited patience for shopping, especially while pregnant. The twins explained why this pregnancy was rougher than her first, and he anticipated she wouldn't be able to work until she went into labor this time. He might even find himself trying to enforce bed rest, though he very much hoped not.

Very carefully, Jane leaned over into the sand castle and picked up Clarissa. She made a cranky little cry but quieted immediately as he settled her against his shoulder, never quite waking. He took a moment to just hold her, closing his eyes and savoring the way she smelled of sand, salt, and sunscreen.

Then he carried her over to the big blanket spread under their beach umbrella, brushing as much sand off her as he could without waking her before laying her down facing her mother. Taking Teresa's hand, he kissed it before resting it on Clarissa, then smiled as Teresa drew her daughter close even in sleep.

She was an incredible mother, he thought. He was humbled by how much joy she took in playing with Clarissa and how happy she'd been when her second pregnancy was confirmed. Even the news that she was carrying two lives inside her hadn't fazed her. She was thrilled to have boys to raise, which she was confident she knew how to do. The girly stuff Clarissa was sometimes interested in was a foreign world to her, and she tended to roll her eyes when Jane brought home hair ribbons and sparkly things. Her face when he'd put Clarissa in a poofy crinoline for her first Christmas dress had been priceless.

Jane didn't care. He'd happily be the fashion and etiquette expert in the family and leave it to his wife to handle sports and how to throw a punch. Though he was secretly looking forward to playing a little catch with his boys when they were old enough. He'd never been a father to a boy, and he was sure there were many discoveries in store, especially since these would probably be Lisbon boys. That was only fair since Clarissa was giving every indication she'd gotten more than her fair share of Jane genes. The terrible twos were going to be a wild ride.

He was determined he'd treat his sons far better than his father had treated him. And he knew Teresa shared his goal of seeing that their children were raised in an intact, reasonably functional family. A shadow had crossed her face when he'd remarked she was going to have to teach Clarissa to be a big sister now. He wondered if their new family structure was a little too close to the Lisbon family's for comfort. He needed to reassure her that no matter what happened, as long as he was alive their children would be safe, loved, and well treated.

Still kneeling in the sand, Jane tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear, then bent to kiss her cheek. She smiled in her sleep, and he moved to kiss Clarissa, then shifted to press two kisses to Teresa's belly. His eyes watered a little as he sat back and looked at his cherished girls and the graceful curved belly that sheltered his boys. His family. His amazing, expanding, undeserved family.

Suddenly seized with the desire to tell his wife some of what was in his full to bursting heart, he dug in their tote bag and pulled out the paper and pen he'd tucked inside.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_As I write this, you are asleep beside me, holding all our children. I am moved beyond words that my life contains this moment. I thought I could never be more grateful than when you made me a husband and father again, restoring those parts of my identity that were stolen from me, but now I realize I was wrong. You are giving me new roles, new challenges that I never realized I craved. I can now look forward to teaching our sons to shave, to open doors, to charm girls. I have no doubt you will be the one teaching them to drive and to throw a fastball, and that I will enjoy encouraging and applauding from a safe distance. But never fear; another thing I won't teach them is how to override their mother's good sense with strategic persuasion._

_I can't wait to hold them both in my arms and memorize their faces. I keep picturing our next family portrait, the five of us together, two proud parents and three happy children. I'm not sure if you can understand what that image means to the lonely, unloved little boy who lurks in my memories._

_But I understand that having been part of a picture like that once before, you have some worries about history repeating itself. So I make you this promise in writing: nothing will ever hold a higher priority for me than our family. If fate is cruel enough to separate us, our children will still be able to depend on me for love, protection, and guidance._

_You don't need to worry that your job is a threat to their childhoods or their lives. We long ago settled the issue of how much your job means to you, and I know that hasn't changed. I also know that you are careful. But we both know sometimes no amount of caution, preparation, or experience can prevent tragedy. If that happens, I promise I won't compound it by allowing myself to self-destruct. Even if I am no longer a husband, I will still be the father we both want me to be, until my last breath._

_I don't need to ask a promise in return, because I know how fiercely protective you are. If something happened to me, I know you'd still be the same strong, loving mother you are today. I know you'd raise our children to be good hearted, independent adults with or without me. That is a great gift._

_But my dearest hope is that we grow old together, sharing and savoring the experiences of raising our children in every stage from infancy to teenager to college student, then making the best of our empty nest. I hope I will dance with you at their weddings and marvel with you over our newborn grandbabies. And at the end, I hope to hold your hand in mine and thank you for this life you made possible. And I hope you will feel that all the bad things we went through were just the blink of an eye compared to all the good times we enjoyed._

_And if by chance you are reading this on a bad day, please know how much I love you, more every day, every hour, every minute. Every inch, too. I'm not sure you believed me when I told you how much I adored you in those cute maternity suits and dresses, but I meant every word. This time there will be even more of you to love, and I can't wait._

_You have made me so happy, Teresa. More than I could ever express in words. For that, and a thousand other reasons, I love you. Or as they say here, te amo._

_U No Hoo_

Jane folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and tucked it in his pants pocket, grinning a little as he reflected pockets were one big advantage over a sarong. He was still tempted to wear one, though, if only to see his wife's face.

Then he gathered up all their beach toys and packed them neatly, ensuring everything was ready before leaning over to whisper in Teresa's ear. "Wakey wakey."

She groaned. "Go away, Jane."

"Lightning bug needs a bath before dinner, and it's time for your afternoon snack," he replied. "Come on. I'll help you up."

Swatting him away, she pushed herself into a sitting position as he picked up Clarissa and their bags. "Can you get the umbrella?" he asked.

"Sure." She yawned, got to her feet, and expertly folded the umbrella. Then she smiled as she noticed the sand castle. "I see you prevailed over Clarzilla in the end."

"My superior ability to stay awake won the day," he replied, wishing he had an arm free to offer her as they walked back toward the hotel. "What would you three like for dinner?"

She frowned. "I wish you wouldn't say it like that. It sounds like you think I have multiple personality disorder or something."

Jane chuckled. "No, you are always my Lisbon. And I love every one of your personalities: Grumpy Lisbon, Barely Awake Lisbon, Happy Lisbon, Smug Lisbon, even Infuriated Lisbon."

"Hungry Lisbon," she reminded him.

"Her too. I know a great place that makes seafood tacos to die for."

She smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"

mmm

They went back to their hotel room, where Franklin had delivered Teresa's afternoon snack plate of fresh fruit, churros, and chocolate. Jane stole a piece of melon as he carried a drowsy Clarissa to the bathroom, and eventually they were all clean, dressed, and fed, ready to explore the town before dinner.

Teresa stopped to look at a selection of colorful scarves, doubtless thinking of gifts for their friends and family, and Clarissa quickly grew bored and grabby. "I'll be just over there," Jane told Teresa, pointing across the square to the post office. "I have to say hi to some old friends."

"Be right there," she replied, giving him a quick smile.

Jane hurried over to the post office, Clarissa content to be in his arms while diverted by all the new sights and sounds. He smiled as he saw the same lady at the post office, with the same friend perched on her chair beside the counter. "Hola, señoras," he greeted them. "Como estan?"

"Señor Jane!" they exclaimed, with evident pleasure. But their attention was quickly drawn to Clarissa. "Que linda," they murmured to each other.

"Mi hija, Clarissa," Jane introduced, setting her on the counter and pulling the letter from his pocket. "Cuanto cuestan los estampillas hoy?"

"Hoy?" The postmistress wore the hint of a smile. "Setenta y cinco centavos."

"Listo," Jane smiled, handing her the letter. At least this one would go directly to their home, not left for Teresa by a mysterious unseen visitor.

He'd completed his transaction in the nick of time, because Teresa joined them a moment later. "Mi esposa Teresa," he said proudly.

The women congratulated him, and he was pleased they were able to see how far he'd come from the lonely man who used to ask if anyone was looking for him. Then he told Teresa, "This is where I mailed all your letters."

She took his arm, leaning against his shoulder. "You were a regular, huh?"

"Yes. And yet I never solved the mystery of why the stamp price was never the same twice in a row."

"Guess it's a good thing you don't have to send any more, hm?" she replied.

Jane stifled a grin. "Say hello, dear, and let's go. You wanted to see my little flat, didn't you?"

"Fat!" Clarissa echoed, liking the percussive consonant and open mouth vowel.

"Buenos dias, señoras," Teresa said politely, then reached for Clarissa. Jane intercepted her, scooping Clarissa up first, and Teresa rolled her eyes but didn't argue as she followed him outside. Jane lifted Clarissa up onto his shoulders, making her squeal with delight.

They walked through the town, taking their time, until Jane found his old street. Looking up, he pointed to the little wooden porch. "There."

Teresa said, "That looks...cozy."

"Smaller than my attic at CBI," he agreed.

"So that's why you never felt cramped in the Airstream," she remarked. "You were used to tight quarters."

"Never needed much room when it was just me," he said. "It was a nice enough little hideaway for a lonely exile. Too small for a family though."

Teresa slid an arm around his waist. "I'm glad to know you don't miss your carefree bachelor days."

"Not even a little," he assured her, leaning down for a kiss. "And they were never carefree. I always cared about you. I missed you, terribly, every day."

"So did I," she admitted. "Thank you for coming back."

"No choice, really," he said, reaching up to stop Clarissa from tugging painfully on his hair. "It was either that or turn into Roger."

"Who's Roger?"

"I'll introduce you tomorrow when we stop by my usual breakfast place. Don't expect a lot of conversation though."

She shook her head at him with a little smile. "Still a man of mystery, hm?"

"I try, my dear. I try."

mmm

They had been home nearly a week when the envelope arrived in the mailbox. Jane set it aside with a few other pieces of mail his wife might be interested in, tossing the junk mail into the recycling bin. Teresa handled the bills, but she did it electronically, so the mail wasn't a critical part of the household management.

He was already feeding Clarissa, a messy and lengthy event these days, when Teresa got home. She bent to give him a kiss, then kissed her daughter's outstretched hands, covered in spaghetti sauce. "Hi, messy girl."

"Mama! Sketti!"

"Yours is in the oven, warming," Jane said. "How was your day, my dear?"

"Okay," she said. "Wylie and Cho were having a contest to see who could accomplish the most while speaking the fewest words. Wylie broke when Agent Donovan came over to ask him what kind of computer she should get for her little brother. I suspect Cho may have set him up."

Jane grinned. "How's Pomfret working out?"

"So far, so good." She wandered over to the pile of mail, pausing when she saw the letter. Then she gave him a delighted smile. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Be amazed when I convince our lightning bug to drink from her sippy cup rather than use it as a projectile," Jane chuckled.

To his surprise and disappointment, she left the letter on the pile and went to their room to change.

They went about their normal weeknight routine, with Teresa bathing Clarissa and putting her to bed. Jane tidied up downstairs, then went up when he heard Teresa stop reading so he could participate in the tuck in. For a change, Clarissa was yawning and half asleep as he whispered, "You are safe, you are loved, and you are wise."

They watched her sleep for a few minutes. Then Teresa kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'm going downstairs to read my letter."

Jane decided to occupy himself upstairs and let her read in peace, so he went into his home office and began packing up his books. When he judged she'd had enough time, he went down to find her on the couch, sore feet propped on a small pile of throw pillows and a tearful smile on her face. "Thank you," she said, folding the letter and setting it in her rapidly disappearing lap.

Jane removed the pillows and sat in their place, setting Teresa's feet in his lap and beginning to massage them. "You're welcome."

"How did you know I was worrying about repeating my family history?"

"I thought you were going to stop asking me questions like that," he grinned. Then he shrugged. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

"You're really going to make us do a family photo shoot every year, aren't you?"

"I regard that as a reasonable compromise, yes. If I had my way, we'd do them every other month or so."

"I'm...I'm really glad you're excited about the boys," she said softly. Then she grinned. "And that you don't plan to teach them to drive."

"I fear that will require far more physical courage than I possess," he replied.

She moaned softly as he manipulated her feet, relaxing back into the pillows she'd piled behind her. "You're such a good daddy," she said. "I love watching you with Clarissa. You're so patient and loving. I've never worried that would change, Patrick. No matter what. I know you'll always be a good dad. You might...go down another revenge rabbit hole, but you'd never be a drunk. You'd never beat your kids. You'd never leave them to fend for themselves. I know that. I always have. It's...it's one of the reasons I wanted a family with you."

He was touched. "I just thought it might put your mind at ease to have me say it. Or write it, as the case may be."

"I love that you did that," she admitted. "I...I do worry about the kids growing up without me, yes. I hate the thought. But...but I also hate the thought of...of you burying another wife."

A sharp, stabbing pain almost made his heart stop. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "I hate it too."

"Which is why," she said, "I've applied for a new job. The cybercrime unit needs a new supervisory agent, and I figure all those years of supervising Grace taught me a few things."

Jane was taken by surprise, an unusual feeling. "Does Cho know?"

"Yes. He understands. He promised to give me a glowing recommendation as long as I don't poach Wylie."

Jane let the realization settle over him. "So...no more field work?"

"Very, very rarely," she said.

Jane leaned over so he could kiss her. "Thank you," he breathed.

"Don't get too excited. I might not get the position."

"Yes, you will." He began thinking of strings he could pull.

"It's not a 9 to 5 thing," she cautioned. "It'll still be a lot of hard work. But no travel, except maybe for conferences and that kind of thing."

"As long as you're safe and home with us at night, I'm happy," Jane assured her.

"Good. Though I have to admit," she said, "I'm going to miss the letters you wrote me while I was away on cases."

"I'll still write you letters," Jane promised.

"For special occasions?"

"Maybe. Or maybe just when the mood strikes. I am a man of mystery, after all." He gave her a big smug grin.

"You just keep telling yourself that," she chuckled. "It'll be tough to find time to be mysterious when you've got three kids in diapers."

He laid a hand on her belly. "I can't wait."

She beamed at him. "Me neither."


	3. Growing Pains

**Author's Note: **So this is a little different from the first two chapters. I wanted to write comforting fluff to escape the news but I had a hard time finding a happy place. I hope you enjoy this anyway. And for everyone in Paris and those affected by terrorism around the world, may better days lie ahead. Soon.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Growing Pains**

Jane's footsteps crunched through the dead leaves on the ground as he stomped away from the house, Clarissa holding tightly to his hand and trying to make as much noise as possible as she scurried along beside him. At 19 months, she was constantly in motion, usually doing something she shouldn't. Her clinging to him instead of running off into the twilight woods told him she'd been frightened by all the yelling earlier.

He should reassure her, he knew. But he needed to calm down first.

It was a good thing she wasn't used to hearing her parents fight, he thought. She shouldn't be used to that, ever. He and Teresa had agreed before she was born never to fight in front of her. But that was before the twins arrived and plunged the house into chaos.

He loved his sons, of course. They were precious, a gift he'd never expected. It was just that at the moment they were a very high maintenance gift, never sleeping at the same time and one of them always wanting to nurse. Teresa was exhausted, still healing from the birth, and caught in a hormonal maelstrom, and despite Jane's best intentions, he'd snapped at her when she berated him for not keeping Clarissa quiet and waking the baby she'd just put down for a nap. That had touched off a screaming match he honestly hadn't thought they'd ever lower themselves to. The only way he knew to stop it was to take Clarissa and leave.

Teresa would get the twins settled, calm down, and be herself again if he gave her enough time. He held onto that hope as he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air.

Clarissa sucked in an exaggerated breath in imitation, and he looked down at her, not having to force a smile. "Smells good, hm?"

"Uh huh." Clarissa paused to jump on a big leaf with both feet. They often took a walk in the evening to try to wear her out before bed, and she was calming down as her world became normal again.

Jane wished his world would become normal again. The two newborns he could handle, but the touchy, weepy stranger with his wife's face disturbed him deeply. Teresa was the linchpin of their family; if she fell apart, they were in trouble. After more than a decade of knowing her, he felt like he was starting from scratch, figuring out her likes and dislikes, her moods and triggers. He felt like he was off his game.

And his family needed him. Especially Clarissa, not old enough to fully understand why her home was suddenly so different and why her mommy didn't have much time for her anymore. An only child himself, Jane had never contemplated the impact on a child of bringing home younger siblings. Now he realized what a huge, unfair thing it was to her. She'd love being a big sister as she got older, but for now she must feel supplanted.

"Want a ride, lightning bug?" he asked.

"Yes. Up!" She stretched up her hands, and he picked her up, swinging her around to make her laugh.

He hugged her, pressing a kiss into her dark curls. "I love you, my girl."

She put her arms around his neck. "Love you Daddy," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

He felt his tension melt away. And then he wondered if maybe what Teresa needed was a simple hug and to be told she was loved. He was pretty sure he hadn't done either since the twins came home, now that he thought about it.

"Let's go hug Mommy," he said to Clarissa.

"Okay." She yawned, and he hoped she'd fall asleep quickly once tucked in.

As they approached the house, he was relieved it was quiet. He didn't know if he could take more crying tonight.

There was a light on in the master suite, but Jane carried the half-asleep Clarissa upstairs, talking to her softly as he got her into her pajamas and tucked her in. Then he ventured downstairs, pausing at one of the bassinets to smile at his sleeping son. Trevor had a head of blonde hair, in contrast to his brother's few dark strands, and his mouth looked more Jane than Lisbon. It was early days yet to be talking about who looked like which parent, though.

Connor was nursing, contentedly lying on the cushion in his mother's lap. Teresa was lying against a pile of pillows in their bed, her eyes closed. Jane knew she was awake but just didn't want to engage, which annoyed him. But he took the opportunity to look closely at her, not liking the dark circles under her puffy eyes and the sheen of tears on her cheeks.

His heart went out to her. He couldn't stand her tears; they made him frantically search for a way to fix whatever was wrong.

This constant nursing had to stop. He'd buy some formula tomorrow so he could do some of the feeding and let her rest. That would help, surely. And he'd do some research on post partum depression, in case she wasn't just tired and overwhelmed.

Maybe he could find a babysitter for Clarissa, perhaps a daycare center where she could play with other children one or two days a week. That would be good for her and give her parents a break from being outnumbered.

Quietly, he moved to the side of the bed, kissing Teresa's damp, warm cheek. "Hey. I love you."

She let out a sigh, looking at him with heartbreaking weariness. "You can't just fix everything by saying I love you, Patrick."

"I know that." When she looked away, he put a finger under her chin and gently turned her face to him again. "But we will fix this, Teresa."

"How?" Her eyes were damp and despairing.

"You can't keep doing this by yourself. It's time for reinforcements. And I think we might want to talk to your doctor."

"You think there's something wrong with me," she accused.

"I think there's something making you unhappy," he corrected. "If it's me, then I want to change that. If it's something biological, then I want to see if we can make it better. When you're unhappy, I'm unhappy." She still looked mulish, so he played his ace. "And so is Clarissa."

Her expression crumpled. "You think I'm being a bad mother."

"I think you're having a bad time and that affects your family. I'm not placing blame. I just want to help."

"You can help by pulling your weight around here and not leaving everything for me to do!"

Jane held his temper with difficulty. He was not going to get into another argument tonight. "Okay. I'll do better with that." Though since he did all the cooking and cleaning, as well as taking care of Clarissa, he wasn't sure what she thought he wasn't doing. "I think he's done. Want me to burp him?"

Teresa looked like she wanted to refuse, but since she'd just accused him of not helping, she could hardly turn down his offer to do just that. Reluctantly, she handed Connor to him, then rearranged her pillows and settled in to try to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, my dear," Jane said softly, getting to his feet and settling the baby on his shoulder to pat his back.

He wandered out into the living room, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting Cho. _You busy?_

_What do you need?_

_Infant formula._

_Be there in an hour._

_Thanks._ Jane reflected with gratitude that at least Cho hadn't changed.

Connor burped, and Jane smiled at him. "Good boy. How about a nap? Then you'll want a fresh diaper and you can try something new, hm? Let Mommy sleep? Otherwise we might need Uncle Cho to protect us."

Connor yawned in reply. Jane carefully laid him in his bassinet, checked on Trevor, and went over to look at Teresa. She was sound asleep, so he didn't disturb her, just turned off the light as he left the room.

Upstairs, he looked in on Clarissa, who fortunately was a good sleeper. Then he went to his office, which was now partly converted to a bedroom, and sat at his desk, rubbing at his face and letting out a long sigh.

He would protect his family. That was the driving force of his life now; he'd just never thought the threats could come from within as well as outside. He'd never imagined not being able to communicate effectively with Teresa. It seemed like every conversation turned into an argument.

Well, if they couldn't talk, maybe he should write. He pulled paper and pen from the desk drawer and tried to order his thoughts.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_I love you. I know that doesn't fix anything, but it's what makes things worth fixing. And as long as I believe you still love me, I'll never give up, no matter how much we argue or what we say to each other. I want you to understand that: I won't give up. I won't walk out. Not for long, anyway, and never for good._

_I saw your face when I took Clarissa and left today. I know you had a moment, just a second, of panic that I wasn't coming back. I suppose with my history, I can't blame you for thinking that. But that was never, even for a second, my intention. Even if I wanted to, how could I give up so easily when you never gave up on me, despite strong and repeated provocation? I owe you the same loyalty, patience, and forgiveness you showed me long before we admitted we loved each other. You deserve at least that. Maybe you have forgotten, but I never will._

_I know having the twins hasn't been the purely joyous occasion we hoped for. I thought it would be like bringing Clarissa home, when everything was new and we were delirious with our happiness at being a family. But two babies are somehow more than twice the work, aren't they? And this pregnancy and delivery were harder on you. I knew that but didn't take into account what it meant for all of us._

_So I owe you an apology. I've been so focused on taking care of the children I haven't taken enough care of you. I think that's what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry I haven't understood it until now. But I'm going to fix it, I promise you._

_I love you. As much as a man is capable of loving, as deeply and eternally as anyone has ever loved, beyond even the greatest love imagined in the greatest love stories, I love you. It is a fundamental fact of my being, no more changeable than my eye color or the way my heart beats. An ever fixed mark, as Shakespeare said. He also said that love is not love that alters when it alteration finds, which is a fancy way of saying that your behavior can't erase my love for you, just like my abominable behavior back at the CBI_ _never made you stop loving me._

_So let's focus on taking care of you. I'll get help taking care of the children and cleaning the house so I can give you all the help you need. Feel free to rant and rave at me as much as you need to. I will grin and bear it knowing that it's temporary. I know someday soon we will be that happy family we envisioned and look back on this as just a bumpy stretch of the road._

_Even now, when we've been arguing all day, I still feel lucky to be your husband. I hope someday soon you'll again feel lucky to be my wife. And thank you for our children. Poopy diapers and tantrums are all worth it when I look into their eyes. I never take any of my time with them for granted. And I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel I've taken you for granted. I don't. I'm so grateful for you, Teresa. I might not always say it, but I always feel it. Every day, every minute, every breath. You've given me a family again, and I promise you, I will treasure all of you for the rest of my life._

_All my love,_

_Patrick_

He went downstairs, set the letter on the nightstand on Teresa's side of the bed, and went to the door to wait for Cho.

mmm

"You need another pair of hands?" Cho asked as he handed Jane the bag.

"I must look pretty bad if you're volunteering to babysit," Jane replied, not really joking.

"You've looked better. Lisbon okay?"

"She's been better," Jane admitted.

"Can't be easy popping two humans out at the same time. What can I do?"

"I'm not sure there's much we can do. I think she needs to talk to her doctor. Meanwhile, know any good daycare facilities?"

"For Clarissa? No, but I'll find some. Plenty of people at the office have kids. You need some help here too?"

"Yeah, maybe." Jane paused, hearing one of the twins give a short cry.

Cho took the bag back. "I'll mix this up while you go get him."

"Thanks," Jane said fervently.

mmm

Cho ended up spending the night. Trevor took a while to accept a bottle, but Connor took to it right away, allowing Teresa several consecutive hours of sleep while Jane and Cho handled diapers and bottles, respectively. Jane managed to nap here and there on the couch, giving Cho the bed in the former guest room that would soon be Connor's.

Teresa woke at sunrise, hurrying into the living room where Cho had moved the bassinets. "Thank God," she said as she spotted them.

"Good morning," Jane said, yawning and sitting up. "How are you feeling?"

"I need to nurse them," she replied, picking up Trevor, who woke with a cranky cry.

"They've had a couple of snacks. Cho brought some formula last night."

Teresa frowned. "I thought I made it clear I wanted to breast feed both of them."

"You did. But you also made it clear you needed to sleep. They're fine, Teresa. Would you like some decaf?"

"Sure. Thanks." She went back into the bedroom with Trevor.

Jane went into the kitchen and switched on the coffeemaker. He'd get her decaf going, and then make the real stuff for Cho. Meanwhile he'd get started on breakfast for those eating solid food.

Footsteps sounded upstairs, followed by a happy cry of "Cho!" from Clarissa. A minute later Cho was towed into the kitchen by the toddler, to Jane's great amusement. "Good morning, sunshine," he greeted them.

"That's one strong kid you've got there," Cho said, helping her into her booster seat. "She'll be ready for Quantico in no time."

Jane shuddered. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Lisbon up?"

"Yes. She's feeding Trevor."

"I should get going."

"Not on an empty stomach," Jane replied. "Eggs or pancakes?"

"Eggs!" Clarissa demanded.

Cho smiled. "You heard the lady."

Jane quickly served up scrambled eggs and orange juice for them, poured Teresa's cup of decaf, and put a pot of regular coffee on to brew. Then he took Teresa her mug.

She was sitting in bed nursing with tears running down her cheeks. Jane's spurt of alarm was quickly swallowed by weariness, but he tried not to show it. "Coffee," he offered, setting the mug on the nightstand beside his letter, which had been unfolded.

"Thanks," Teresa muttered, sniffing a little.

Jane took the risk of rubbing her back to comfort her. "What would you like for breakfast, my darling?"

"I don't care," she replied.

"Clarissa is having a fine time with her Uncle Cho. He has the day off, you know. I bet he could be convinced to stay for a play date."

Teresa looked at him for the first time since he'd come in. "Cho's still here?"

"Yes. He's a little worried about you; he'd like to see you."

"Jane, I haven't showered in two days. I'm fat and sore and spend most of my day with my boobs hanging out. I don't want company."

"Okay," Jane said. "I confess I'm a little scared to tell him that, but I will."

Teresa bit her lip. "He'll expect to find Agent Lisbon, and I'm not sure I even remember who that is." She sucked in a deep breath. "You don't even recognize me anymore."

"I don't think that's true."

"You said as much in your letter."

That's what she'd taken from his words? Jane was dumbfounded. "That wasn't what I meant to say."

"You think I've forgotten that I love you. But I haven't."

"I'm glad to hear it." Jane took a breath to calm himself, looking down at Trevor, who'd fallen asleep. "I'll take him if you like. Why don't you have a nice warm shower? Take some time for yourself. Don't worry about any of us. Cho will keep us in line for you."

"Okay." She handed him the baby, then carefully scooted to the edge of the bed and got up. Jane tried to stay close without overtly hovering, but he was surprised when she put a hand on his arm. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," he assured her, kissing her cheek.

Slowly, she slid her arms around his waist and leaned against his shoulder, and he held her with his free arm. Pressing a kiss into her limp hair, he murmured, "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered.

They stayed like that until Trevor began to fuss, needing burped. Then Teresa headed for the bathroom, leaving Jane to attend to his son. He'd no sooner gotten Trevor burped than Connor started crying, so he took both babies into the kitchen.

Cho was standing at the stove scrambling eggs. He put them on a plate and set it on the table, then took Connor and picked up a bottle. "Sit. Eat."

Jane blinked at his breakfast, touched. "You cooked for me?"

"Somebody needed to."

Jane sat, hoisting Trevor to his shoulder. "Thanks. Keep this up and I may not let you leave."

"I like my chances," Cho replied. "I can always call for backup."

Jane chuckled. The eggs weren't bad, he decided. Not great, but acceptable. He wasn't going to complain in any case; he couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for him. "Backup is good."

"Yes, it is." Cho sounded more serious than usual. "Wylie and I will check in regularly from now on. I'll let Lisbon's team know you're looking for help, too. You guys don't need to do it all yourselves."

"Thank you." Jane hoped his friend could hear his gratitude; he was afraid if he said more, he'd choke up.

Cho surprised him by continuing, "It always made me mad when the two of you acted like that at CBI. Like you didn't want the rest of us involved. It was stupid then, and it's more stupid now. Let us help."

"Gladly."

"Good."

More than once in the past week, Jane had reflected on his dearth of extended family. There were no grandparents to pitch in, and Lisbon's brothers were all busy with their own lives far away. But he'd forgotten that their family of non-relatives was available and willing to pitch in.

"Daddy," Clarissa said, wanting attention.

"Yes, lightning bug?"

She grinned at him and banged her sippy cup on her tray, then began babbling at the top of her lungs. Since nobody was trying to sleep, Jane just smiled and kept eating his eggs while nodding at her to show he was paying attention.

When Connor finished his bottle, Cho and Jane traded babies since Jane was the expert burper. A few minutes later, they were all pleasantly surprised when Teresa came into the room, freshly scrubbed and dressed in an outfit Jane recognized from the early part of her maternity wardrobe.

"Hi, Cho. Thanks for coming over," she said, smiling.

"Good to see you," he replied, smiling back.

She bent to kiss Clarissa's head as she passed, making the little girl beam, and reached for Trevor, who yawned as he looked up at her.

"Have a seat," Cho said, pulling a chair out for her. "Eggs okay?"

Jane got up. "I'll do it."

"Sit," Cho ordered. "You want some more? I'll put the kettle on for your tea. More milk, Clarissa?"

Teresa frowned. "You're our guest, Kimball. You shouldn't wait on us."

"I'm not a guest. I'm backup. Heard you needed some."

Teresa glanced at Jane, rolling her eyes. "Now he learns to call for backup."

Cho chuckled. "Yeah."

"Well, thank you," she told him.

"You're welcome."

She looked back down at her son, then said, "He's out. I'm going to put him down."

Connor let out a big burp, and Jane said, "Might as well give this one a try as well."

He followed her to the living room, where they swaddled the babies and laid them down. Then they stood and watched for a few minutes to make sure sleep really was on the agenda.

"They really are beautiful," Jane said. They definitely weren't identical twins, though they shared some similarities. He bet their personalities would turn out to be very different too. He couldn't wait to find out.

"Yes, they are." Teresa stepped close and laid her head on his shoulder, sliding an arm around him.

He looped an arm around her waist and kissed her head. "So are you."

She snorted. "Not right now."

"Yes, right now." He rested his cheek against her hair. "I know it's been rough. But it's going to get better soon. I promise."

"I...I know I haven't been myself lately," she said slowly. "I'll call Dr. Hendricks today."

"And we'll get some help around here."

"Thanks for letting me sleep. I feel better."

"Good."

After a minute, she whispered, "I love you."

Jane closed his eyes and smiled. "I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: **Please forgive any inaccuracies. In real life I've only ever played the role of Cho. :)


	4. Date Night

**Author's Note: **This is a follow up to the last chapter for those who wondered how it turned out. I hope you find it satisfying! Thank you so much for letting me know what you think of this series. Your feedback keeps me going!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Date Night**

Jane put Clarissa's dinner on her high chair tray with a flourish, drawing an answering grin from her. "My lady is served," he intoned, making her giggle.

"Where's yours?" she asked when he didn't sit down. Just past her second birthday, her verbal skills had taken a dramatic leap forward, and she mostly constructed sentences now.

"I'm eating later with Mommy. It's date night." Jane was practically giddy with anticipation, and he let it show. They hadn't had a date night since the twins were born, too busy and too tired even after they'd hired a nanny so they weren't outnumbered. But Teresa's maternity leave was ending, after she'd twice extended it, and Jane had suggested they have a night out before she got sucked back into an erratic work schedule. "Uncle Cho is coming over to help Laurel look after you and your brothers."

"Yay!" Clarissa loved her Uncle Cho with a passion that amused Jane, but also made him happy. His children would never lack loving adult guidance.

"Yes, yay. Now, eat your spaghetti. I'm going to see how Mommy is doing." Jane started out of the room, pausing only to remind her, "No throwing!"

It was a waste of breath, he knew, and he only had a couple of minutes before she'd start trying to unbuckle herself and get down. Fortunately, in the hallway he met Laurel, the nice young lady they'd hired to help out after extensive background checks and an interview by Cho at his most formidable. "Laurel, could you oversee Clarissa's dinner?"

"Sure." They both winced a little at a splat from the kitchen, and she grinned. "The boys are both bathed and put to bed."

"Great. Thanks." Jane headed up the stairs to check on Trevor and Connor. They were both awake but sleepy, yawning after their dinner and bath and content to lie in their cribs for once. He kissed them and went in search of his wife, feeling that everything was coming together nicely.

Teresa was standing in their closet, frowning. Uh oh. "You don't need to dress up," Jane remarked as he joined her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension there. "I don't have anything fancy planned."

She relaxed a little. "You don't?"

"No. I knew you didn't want one more thing to worry about." He kissed her briefly. "We'll improvise. Your favorite steak place, maybe, or takeout in the Airstream."

Her expression lightened, and he saw that he'd been right. She'd wanted to cancel but felt guilty doing so, knowing how much he'd been looking forward to this. He wondered if she assumed he wanted to make love tonight. It had been six months since the twins were born, and they'd managed a few times, but with three young children they always knew they could be interrupted. He longed to take his time with her again. But he was also determined to keep their sex life and Teresa's martyr complex as far apart as possible.

"Takeout in the Airstream sounds wonderful," she said. "Just the two of us. Maybe we can take a nap after."

Jane grinned. He loved being part of a big, busy family where a nap was considered a treat for the adults. "Perfect. So put on something comfortable and think about which drive through window you'd like to patronize."

"Let's go to your favorite taco truck," Teresa suggested.

Jane chuckled; he'd been thinking about that truck just yesterday. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

"Not today that I recall," she smiled.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly until they heard Cho call out as he came in the door. "Better go say hi," Jane murmured against her neck.

"Mmm." Teresa lay her head against his shoulder. "Can't we just stay in here?"

Jane snickered at the image of Cho catching them making out in the closet. "My fantasies always featured a supply closet, not our master bedroom one."

"This is much roomier." Teresa grinned at him as she stepped back. "Go say hi and let me get dressed. I'll be quick."

Jane stole another kiss, then went out to greet his old friend. Cho had been a regular visitor ever since the twins were a few weeks old, when Jane and Teresa had been at the end of their rope. He'd not only found Laurel for them, but he'd also pitched in himself at least twice a week until things settled down. If not for him and Wylie, Jane wasn't sure their family would have come through intact.

From Clarissa's cries of excitement, Jane deduced that Cho was in the kitchen. Sure enough, he found Laurel scrubbing the wall while Cho tried to explain to Clarissa that her dinner was not a projectile. "Hi, Cho. Thanks for stopping by."

"No problem. We wrapped the case today so I have the night off. Thanks for pointing us in the right direction."

Jane shrugged. All he'd done was review the file and make a few obvious (to him) remarks. "You're welcome."

"You ever want to come back, just let me know."

"Not until they're all in school, at least," Jane replied. "We're not going far, so call or text if anything comes up."

Cho said, "I got this. We're the FBI."

Jane smirked at the old joke. "Striking fear into the hearts of bad guys and keeping little girls from launching spaghetti missiles."

"I get paid for the first one."

"You get paid for the second one, too. Containers are in the freezer." Jane was happy to supply home cooked meals for his bachelor buddies in return for babysitting.

"Thanks," Cho replied. "You guys have fun."

"You too." Jane leaned down to kiss Clarissa's cheek. "You be good for Uncle Cho, okay, lightning bug?"

"Okay Daddy." Clarissa put a handful of spaghetti in her mouth and smiled as if butter wouldn't melt in it. Jane recognized that look from his mirror, though it was disconcerting to see it on a face with so many of Teresa's features.

Cho obviously recognized that look too. "Good. Because only good little girls get stories."

Teresa joined them with a smile. "And good uncles are careful about the stories they tell."

"Of course," Cho replied.

"Because the last story you told her resulted in nonstop begging for a p-o-n-y," Teresa remarked.

Cho shrugged. "Not like you don't have room."

"That's what I said," Jane said.

Teresa narrowed her eyes at him. "Somebody wants to spend date night at the coliseum."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Only if they've moved the opera there. Ready to go, my dear?"

Teresa bent to kiss Clarissa's cheek. "Good night, sweetheart. Be good, okay?"

"Okay," Clarissa agreed, occupied by trying to grab more noodles than she could hold.

Jane held out his hand to Teresa, who took it but turned to Cho. "Thanks, Cho. See you in a few hours. You know where everything is, and you can text us if you need anything."

Jane began towing her out of the room as Cho waved a hand. "Get out of here. We'll be fine."

mmm

It was a beautiful night, and they ended up eating in the park near the taco truck, then taking a stroll arm in arm. Jane was content to wander under the stars with his love, but he could tell Teresa was wanting to move the evening along. That was interesting. Obviously she wanted to talk, but not in public.

"Shall we pick up some ice cream?" he suggested.

"I'm never going to lose the rest of the baby weight eating ice cream," she pointed out, tugging at her blouse in annoyance.

She'd gotten back in fighting form after Clarissa, but she was having a tougher time now. Jane liked her all soft and curvy, but he knew his preferences weren't what counted. "We could work it off after."

Teresa looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite pin down. Then she said, "I'll split a cone with you. How's that?"

"I'll take it." He steered her toward the nearest ice cream parlor.

They split a chocolate ice cream cone as they walked to the car, then listened to jazz on the radio as they drove back to the cabin. The Airstream was parked a little ways away, mostly unused as they waited for the twins to be old enough to take on a family vacation. As Jane opened the door for Teresa, he had a flash of deja vu, recalling the days when they'd lived here, from their first weeks together to their first months as newlyweds. "Home sweet home," he joked.

Teresa ran her hand along the table. "Yeah," she said softly. "Some good memories here. Not as many as the cabin, but they're special."

"Yes, they are." He locked the door behind them and leaned down for a kiss. "Have a seat, my dear, and tell me what's on your mind."

She gave him a look, but she'd finally lost the habit of asking him how he knew things. Or maybe she was just working up the nerve to broach whatever unpleasant subject she wanted to discuss. He wracked his brain but couldn't come up with a likely candidate. He knew they were in agreement that they didn't want a bigger family, and they'd been careful so he didn't think she was pregnant. She liked her management job and didn't pine for field work, and she knew he didn't care if she loaned her brothers money.

"I, uh, talked to my doctor yesterday," she began after they were seated at the table, and his heart nearly stopped. She wasn't sick, was she? "I'm fine, Patrick," she said quickly, reaching for his hand. "Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay," he croaked.

"I wanted to talk to her about how to prevent any more pregnancies." She tried to lighten the atmosphere with a nervous smile. "I don't think we'd survive four kids, much less five."

Considering how hard carrying and giving birth to the twins had been on her, he had to agree. "You might be right. Though I like to think we can handle anything."

She shook her head. "I didn't like who I was a few months ago. I hated the way you tiptoed around me like I was fragile. And I hated knowing that I was."

"The medicine helped, though. And I loved you through all of it, Teresa. Every minute."

"I know. But it was hard for me to remember I loved you, and I know you saw that. I know it scared you. And I never want us to be in a place like that again."

Scared was a small word for his bone deep terror when he'd realized how distant she'd become, but he didn't want to dwell on it. "Me either."

"So we talked through some options. I don't want to take more time off for surgery, and the other things all have a range of possible side effects, some minor and some not."

"We can just keep using condoms," he suggested. She wasn't likely to be fertile for more than another ten years, probably less.

"They're not foolproof. And I really want foolproof."

"Is that why you haven't been interested much?" He wanted to kick himself for not realizing she dreaded an accident.

"Partly. But anyway, what I wanted to ask you was..." She took a breath.

"You want me to have a vasectomy." He blurted it out as soon as he realized it.

"Don't say no right away," she said quickly. "Just think about it. I know it's not totally without risks, and I know how you feel about doctors."

Jane winced a little at the thought of letting someone use a sharp blade near his most sensitive parts. But he had to admit Teresa had suffered quite a bit of handling of hers while giving birth to their children. She wasn't being unreasonable; it just felt that way right now. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"You can always freeze some sperm if you want to," she offered.

"Why would I want to?" He frowned. They'd agreed they were done having kids.

"Just in case. So you don't feel like you're, I don't know, losing any possibilities."

"You mean when I have my belated midlife crisis and run off with a twenty year old?" He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"No. I know you're not going to do that," Teresa assured him. "But if something happened to me, or God forbid one of the kids—"

"I'd want a replacement? No!" Jane took a deep breath to calm down. "No."

"Okay. Sorry." Teresa squeezed his hand.

"It doesn't work like that," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

"I know. I didn't mean to say it did. I just don't want you to feel like you're giving something up if you do this."

"Because you're the only one allowed to make sacrifices for this family?"

Teresa sighed, sitting back. "Well, that's one date night ruined."

"What did you expect?" he snapped.

"This, pretty much," she admitted. "I just thought we should talk about it without the kids around."

Jane rubbed at his face. "Yeah."

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?"

He had to smile a little at how well she knew him. "Yeah. I won't be long."

"Take your time. I've been looking forward to a nap," she smiled as they got up. Then she gave him a kiss. "Hey. It's okay if you say no. I'll figure something else out."

"We'll figure something else out," he corrected her. "We share responsibility for this."

Her gentle smile warmed him. "I know. I love you."

"I love you too. I won't be long."

mmm

A brisk walk in the woods always helped Jane think more clearly, and he hadn't gone far before he started to wonder how big an idiot he was for spending his rare kid-free time apart from his wife. He took a few deep breaths of the evening air, chilly with the oncoming winter, and made his way back to the Airstream.

As much as the idea of surgery made him want to run for the hills, he owed it to Teresa to thoroughly consider it. He at least needed to consult a doctor and do some research so she'd know he'd taken her request seriously, no matter his answer.

He hadn't realized how badly her experience had scared her, and he didn't want her worrying about another baby every time they made love. Some kind of permanent solution was called for, he knew. And hadn't he always said he'd do anything for her? He'd need a better reason than fear to deny her request, which she hadn't made lightly, he knew.

It was getting late, and their date night was drawing to a close. They weren't going to settle this tonight, so he wanted to put it aside and enjoy his precious alone time with Teresa. He grinned with anticipation as he opened the door of the Airstream.

Teresa was curled up on the bed, sound asleep. He smiled down at her, reminded of the early days of their relationship when he'd stay awake just to look at her, unable to believe she'd chosen him. Sometimes he was afraid he'd wake up and find it had all been a dream.

He'd let her sleep a while. Cho was a big boy; he could stay up past midnight without turning into a pumpkin. Meanwhile, Jane could get his thoughts organized. He tapped his lips with a finger, then turned to one of the cupboards. Sure enough, he'd left some paper and a pen here, along with his emergency tea stash.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_Did I ever tell you I used to watch you sleep? There's not much chance to do it these days, but looking at you now I remember why I love it. You're so peaceful when you sleep, and if I whisper to you or touch your cheek, you'll smile in contentment. It's still marvelous to me that I can make you happy._

_For so long I felt as if I blighted everyone I touched. I'm thankful that you and our friends managed to survive despite my bringing your world crashing down around you. That you're all thriving today brings me great joy. That you chose me to share your life and father your children is nothing short of astonishing. Sometimes the thought occurs to me that I might be locked up in a padded room somewhere dreaming all this._

_Which is why I'm grateful that you still surprise me. I'm pretty sure even my twisted mind on its most self-loathing day wouldn't come up with you asking me nicely to consider surgical sterilization. If I were making this up, you'd probably just castrate me in my sleep. No doubt it would be well deserved._

_I know you hate it when I say I'm in your debt, but I am. I demanded so much of you over the years, and you asked me for so little. So rest assured that I am giving your request serious and sustained consideration, as it deserves. I never want our marriage to become lopsided as our professional relationship was, with me doing all the taking and you doing all the giving. There's nothing I want to withhold from you, ever. Even this._

_But you know me, better than anyone. You know my fears and my tendency to avoid rather than confront them. Somewhere in your mind I'm sure you're worried I'll pretend to agree and then lie to you about having surgery, probably orchestrating an elaborate scheme to deceive you. It's not an unreasonable concern on your part, I'm ashamed to confess. But I promise you I won't. I try not to lie to you anymore, you know. And never about something so important._

_But I must ask of you something in return. If this turns out to be the best option for us, I'll need your help. I'll need you to help me talk to the doctor and make sure I don't give him a strong unconscious desire to sever an important vein while he's cutting. We both know I inspire that kind of reaction sometimes. And fear makes me very hard to deal with._

_I'll also need you to hold my hand and understand, as I know you do, how frightened I am under the arrogant bravado._

_I never told you this, but from our very first time I have always considered making love with you to be an act of creation. Each and every time I'm inside you, you create another piece of me, rebuilding me from the ruins of the broken man I was. Even when making a baby hasn't been a possibility, the act of joining our bodies made my identity more solid, first as a lover, then a husband, and then a husband and father._

_The man I am today could never have existed without you, Teresa. If we go all the way back to our first meeting, I think that I'm more your making than anyone else's. You are Pygmalion and I am your flawed but faithful Galatea._

_Or perhaps you'd prefer me to put it this way: I made myself a better man trying to be worthy of your friendship and then your love. And my first impulse will always be to give you what you want, or at least what I think you want. So since you've made a direct and specific request, I will need a very good reason to deny you. If I don't find one, I will do my utmost to face my fear and do as you ask. You've done as much for me, over and over, from lying to your superiors to pretending to be a psychic to facing childbirth. I'll try to take courage from your example._

_Just stay with me through it all, please. I can face anything with you beside me. You were my guardian angel long before you were my wife, fierce and radiant as if you stepped from a stained glass window. 'Be not afraid,' the angels always had to say first in the Bible, because they were wondrous and terrifying to mortals. You are wondrous and awesome, in the old sense of the word as well as the new. And I will go through anything for you as long as your hand is outstretched to pull me to you on the other side of it._

_But for now I will lie down beside you and hold you while you sleep, like I did so often when it was a new and magical thing to watch the moonlight paint your breast alabaster or feel your fingers flex against mine as you dreamed. Even now when all of that is far from new, it is still magical, and I am enchanted by it. Our lives may seem normal, our days filled with chores and dirty diapers, but our story is still a fairy tale, even after the evil sorcerer has been vanquished and the obstacles to our love overcome. You are my heroine. I will always do my best to be your hero._

_All my love,_

_Patrick_

Jane folded the letter and toed off his shoes, carefully lying down beside Teresa. As she sensed his heat, she rolled toward him and slid her arm around his waist, humming a little. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Go back to sleep, love. We have time."

She yawned, then murmured, "Don't you want to have sex?"

"Always." He nibbled her earlobe.

Teresa chuckled sleepily. "You wrote me another letter, didn't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Too long to be a grocery list. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good." He tucked his face against her neck. "Really good."

"Good." She kissed his hair, then rolled him onto his back and climbed over him.

"Where're you going?" he asked plaintively, trying in vain to stop her.

"To get my letter. I want to read it." She picked it up and then climbed back into bed, turning on the overhead light.

Jane grumbled, "It'll still be there in the morning, you know."

Teresa unfolded the letter. "Cheer up. If it's anything like your other ones, it'll save you some foreplay."

He huffed out a chuckle, then put his arms around her waist and pulled himself into her lap while she read, pressing tickling little kisses against her ribs through her blouse. She worked the fingers of one hand into his hair, stroking and scratching until he wanted to purr like a big cat. This was far more like the date night he'd envisioned, he thought.

At last, Teresa carefully folded the letter and tucked it under her pillow. Then she began unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay hero," she said softly. "Better get moving. We turn back into parents at midnight."

"I think our fairy godmother will forgive us if we're late," Jane murmured, sitting up to kiss her.

Teresa snorted into his kiss as she imagined Cho in a gown holding a magic wand, just as he'd intended. They were momentarily distracted from undressing each other by a fit of giggles, which in its way was almost as good as sex, Jane thought.

"Fairy tale, huh?" she said skeptically.

"Absolutely. We're living happily ever after, aren't we?" He certainly was.

She smiled, the big glowing one he loved. "Yeah. We are."


	5. Christmas

**Author's Note: **For those of you who found the last two chapters heavy going, here's some holiday fluff. Enjoy, and happy holidays to you all!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Christmas**

"What I wouldn't give for a Silent Night," Jane grumbled, snapping off the radio as the carol began to play. The weather report hadn't changed; Austin was about to be covered in ice and most of the middle of the country was buried in a blizzard. Teresa, on her way home from a cyber security conference in Washington, DC, had managed to make it to Chicago before being stranded, while their nanny Laurel had left yesterday for her grandmother's home in Florida. Which left Jane alone on Christmas Eve with his two-year-old daughter and nine-month-old twin sons, all of whom were mobile, vocal, and destructive to varying degrees.

He hadn't managed any Christmas decorations, too busy keeping everyone fed, diapered, and out of trouble, but he hoped he'd at least get a tree and some presents out after everyone was asleep. None of the kids would remember this holiday, but he and Teresa definitely would.

Clarissa was occupied with her stuffed bunny and a tea set, but Connor was headed her way and Trevor had decided now was a good time to try dislodging the gate that stood between him and his ambition to climb the stairs. Jane scooped up Trevor on his way to referee the tea party crashing, but before he could get there, Clarissa turned on her brother and brought her stuffed bunny down on his head. "No!" she yelled.

Connor, who'd inherited his mother's high pain threshold and bullheaded stubbornness, paused under the bunny attack, then barreled forward toward the tea set. Jane grabbed him just in time, standing with one twin in each arm. The boys immediately started babbling to each other.

"No hitting, Clarissa," Jane said sternly.

"I'm having a tea party with Bunny!" she protested.

Before he could pursue the argument, his cell interrupted with Teresa's ringtone. Jane hurried to set the boys down as far from Clarissa as possible, then lunged for it. "Tell me you're on a plane," he pleaded.

"Sorry." She sounded weary rather than frustrated, which was a very bad sign. "Nothing's taking off for at least two hours, they say. The wind's picked up."

He sighed. "Can you get to Stan's house safely? Maybe you should just spend the night."

"I don't know. Maybe." She paused. "I hate to miss the boys' first Christmas."

"They won't remember," he assured her. "They don't even know what Christmas is."

"Santa!" Clarissa shouted, eavesdropping shamelessly.

"I wanted to put out the nativity set and tell her the story," Teresa said miserably.

Jane couldn't quite bring himself to tell her he'd do it instead. He loved telling Clarissa stories, but this was one that Teresa wanted her to believe, and he didn't. "You can do it when you get home. It's not like Jesus was actually born on December 25."

"I guess," she sighed.

He hated that she sounded so sad. "We'll have Christmas whenever you get here. We're the only ones who can read a calendar, after all. Just be safe. I don't want you to take any chances."

"I won't. I just wish I hadn't had to travel so close to the holidays."

Jane didn't ask her why. The conference had been called on short notice, so he assumed there had been an imminent threat. But they couldn't talk about things like that on the phone, especially with Clarissa listening. "At least you have plenty of company."

"Yeah. There are people sleeping on the floor everywhere."

"Don't do that. Go to Stan's or get a hotel. I don't care how much you spend."

Teresa sounded amused. "You never do."

"You, my dear, are worth any amount of money," he said, smiling.

"Mommy?" Clarissa had been watching him closely and must have decided he was speaking to her mother.

"Lightning bug wants to say hi." Jane put the phone on speaker, activated the video setting, and crouched down so Clarissa could see the phone.

"Hi, sweetie," Teresa called.

"Hi Mommy!" Clarissa jumped up and down with excitement.

"Are you being good for Daddy?"

"Uh huh. Connor messed up my tea party." She glared at her brothers, who were scrambling toward them at the sound of their mother's voice.

"That's too bad. Tell you what, when I get home we'll have a tea party, just us girls."

"When?" Clarissa demanded, jumping a little again.

"Soon, I hope. Now tonight, it's important you go to bed on time and sleep, okay? Santa won't come if you're awake."

"Santa!" Clarissa clapped her hands.

Connor reached them, grabbing for the phone. Jane pulled it out of reach as Teresa crooned, "Hi, big boy!"

"Mamamamama!" Connor shouted, followed by more babble. Trevor tried to outdo his brother in volume as he joined them.

Jane turned the phone so he and Teresa could see each other. "I want earplugs for Christmas," he half-joked.

"Maybe Santa will bring you some. Have you been a good boy?" She gave him a sly grin.

"No time to be naughty with these three around," he chuckled.

She chuckled too, then frowned. "I'd better go find a place to charge my phone. I'll keep you posted."

"Be careful, please," he reminded her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied with a smile. "Let me say goodnight to the kids."

Jane turned the phone back, smiling as his children's eyes were all drawn to the image of their mother. "Good night, babies," she said softly. "I'll see you soon. Sleep tight!"

"Night, Mommy," Clarissa said, straining to be heard over the boys' babble.

Jane glanced at the screen, hoping for one last glimpse of his wife, but she'd already hung up. He resolved to get her a phone with more battery life soon. He missed her even more now.

Looking down, he had to smile at the three precious faces turned up to him. Clarissa flung herself forward to hug his knees, her usual reaction when she perceived he was sad, and his heart melted.

"I'm okay, lightning bug," he assured her, slipping his phone in his pocket so he could pick her up and kiss her cheek. A second later, he felt a tug on his pants and looked down to see Connor pulling himself up for the first time, using fistfuls of fabric. "Well, look at you," he said, delighted.

Not to be outdone, Trevor grabbed his father's other leg, but he couldn't quite get his legs under himself to stand. Jane let him try until he finally dissolved into tears of frustration, then lowered himself to sit on the floor so the boys could crawl into his lap. Clarissa clung to his neck and yawned, giving him hope he might be able to get her to sleep tonight at a reasonable hour.

"Family hug," Jane said, gathering all three children into his arms. He closed his eyes and savored the moment, which for so long had seemed unimaginable. He was part of a family, with a fiercely loving wife and three adorable, brilliant children. Everything was perfect, except of course that the aforementioned wife was stuck a thousand miles away.

A knock on the door was such an unexpected sound that at first he thought he'd imagined it. As a key was inserted in the lock, his heart leapt with irrational hope that it was Teresa. But the person who came through the door was Cho, followed closely by Wylie. They were both coated in ice and shivering.

"Cho!" Clarissa shrieked, abandoning her father for her uncle.

"Come in, quick, and close the door," Jane called as Connor made a beeline for the open door. He got to his feet, holding Trevor, as Wylie hastily closed the door and wrestled out of his coat.

Cho had gotten his coat off and picked up Clarissa. "We were interviewing south of here. The roads are bad, though. I don't think we can make it to town."

Wylie grinned. "We were hoping there was, you know, room at the inn."

"For you guys, always," Jane replied. "I was hoping for wise men bearing gifts, but reinforcements are welcome. Teresa's stuck in Chicago."

"Yeah, I got a text from her earlier," Cho replied.

Jane wasn't surprised. Though they now worked in separate areas, the two supervisory agents kept in close touch. And Teresa knew Cho would check on her family without her having to ask.

Connor pulled himself up on Wylie's leg with an excited squawk. "Hey!" Wylie beamed down at him. "He can stand up!"

"It's his newest trick," Jane said. "You two look frozen. Hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, thanks," Wylie said, bending to steady Connor.

Cho carried Clarissa over to the fireplace and set her in a chair. "You stay there while I light this," he told her firmly. She nodded, settling Bunny in her lap.

Jane had laid wood for a fire, hoping to use it after Teresa arrived, but he had no objection to sharing it with his two shivering friends. He headed for the kitchen, Trevor content to be carried. "Have you had dinner?"

"No place was open," Cho replied.

Jane had done a lot of cooking last night in preparation for Christmas dinner; the spiral ham was pre-cooked and most of the side dishes only needed reheating. He knew Teresa wouldn't mind eating leftovers, and he didn't have anything else he could quickly prepare, except breakfast items. He'd lay on the Christmas feast for his visitors. It seemed the least he could do for his much needed, unlooked-for reinforcements.

Trevor was willing to go in his high chair and play with some Cheerios while Jane put some milk in a pot to warm for cocoa and began pulling dishes out of the fridge. A few minutes later he carried steaming mugs out to Cho, who gratefully took it in place of his plastic teacup, and Wylie, who was playing with plastic building blocks with Connor. "Dinner in half an hour," he announced.

"Need help?" Wylie asked.

"You're already helping," Jane smiled.

Except for Teresa's absence, the evening was everything Jane had planned. The meal was delicious, with plenty left over for tomorrow, and with a 1-to-1 adult-to-child ratio, everybody got enough attention and food.

Connor nearly did a face plant in his plate, exhausted after his active day, so Jane took him upstairs while his guests ate dessert. After a quick clean up, fresh diaper, and warm pajamas, Connor fell asleep the minute he was laid in his crib. Jane kissed his forehead and smiled at him for a few seconds, admiring how beautiful and peaceful he was.

"One down," he announced as he came back downstairs. Cho and Clarissa were reading a book in front of the fire, and from the sounds in the kitchen, Wylie was cleaning up. Trevor was making a mess of strawberry preserves on bread, his favorite treat, while Wylie loaded the dishwasher. "Thanks, Wylie."

"Hey, no trouble. That was the best meal I've had in ages. Almost as good as Mom's Christmas dinner."

"How'd you get stuck here this year?"

"Open case." Wylie shrugged. "Field work huh? Murderers don't take the holidays off. And just when you think you've seen it all, they come up with new gross ways to do it."

Jane glanced at Trevor, who was painting his toes strawberry and seemingly not listening. "You're not supposed to get used to it, Jason," he said quietly. "It's okay."

"I guess. It just seems worse when we're supposed to be celebrating. Goodwill toward men and all that."

"Yeah." Jane knew from years of watching Teresa that the contrast between Christian teaching and human behavior could be tough for the faithful to take sometimes. He laid a hand on Wylie's shoulder. "If it helps, you certainly have my goodwill."

Wylie grinned. "At least you're not making me sleep in the barn."

"And I'll throw in my special Christmas breakfast in the morning. No charge."

"Sounds great. Did Laurel make it out of town okay?"

"Yes. She texted she got to her grandmother's yesterday." Jane decided that, in the Christmas spirit, he'd refrain from teasing his friend about his crush on the nanny. "She'll be back on New Year's Day."

"Hopefully the ice'll be gone by then," Wylie said.

"Yeah. So, if you want the bed in Connor's room, you're welcome to it. He's a sound sleeper, so don't worry about waking him up. With an older sister around, he's never really known silence," Jane grinned.

"Thanks. It's been a long day. And I bet you guys get up early around here."

Jane chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Right now the teen years sound good: moody silence and sleeping til noon."

"Teenage Janes," Wylie mused. "Bet that's going to be interesting."

"I'm hoping Teresa will consider early retirement."

"Good luck with that." Wylie smiled as he looked at Trevor, who was now a sticky mess. "You need help with him?"

"You already did the dishes. I got this. Though if you need something to do, the tree is out on the porch."

"Oh, I love a live tree!" Wylie beamed. "I'll get it."

"Not too close to the fire," Jane called after him.

"Rats. I thought burning the house down in an ice storm would be fun," Wylie called back.

He'd been spending way too much time with Cho, Jane thought.

Getting Trevor ready for bed and tucked in took quite a while, and when Jane came back downstairs, the tree stood across the room from the fireplace. Its branches were bare, but Wylie had found the tree skirt in the coat closet and cleaned up all the toys. Cho was dozing in the recliner while Clarissa sat quietly in his lap and turned the pages in her picture book.

"Hey," Wylie greeted him softly. "I couldn't find the decorations."

"We aren't using them this year. I'm doing a baby proof tree," Jane said. "Thanks for all your help."

"I enjoyed it. It's homey here," Wylie grinned. "But I think I'll go upstairs and call my folks if you've got this under control."

"Yeah, we're good. Let me know if you need anything. I put fresh towels in the upstairs bathroom."

"Good night. And hey, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jason," Jane replied as his friend went upstairs. Then he turned to his daughter, who gave him an angelic smile. "Ready for bed, lightning bug?"

"Huh uh." She shook her head, dark curls bouncing. "I'm reading."

"Okay, you can finish your book." It was Christmas, after all, he thought. "But don't wake up Uncle Cho."

"Okay." She returned her gaze to the page, concentrating. Jane knew she couldn't read yet, but he bet she'd get to it early.

He went to the small desk that they'd added to the living room when they converted the home office into Connor's bedroom, pulling out sheets of cream colored paper and his favorite ink pen. It was time to decorate the tree as only he could. It would not only be safe for their babies, but it would be his love letter to Teresa.

He wrote one sentence per sheet before folding it into an ornament: a star for the tree topper, frogs to remind her of the first origami he'd made her, swans to remind her of when they were secret lovers, flowers to remind her of their wedding, and three intricate little cradles for their children. It took a fair bit of concentration, so his first clue that anything had changed was Clarissa's declaration of "Duck!" before she flattened one of the swans.

"No!" Jane yelped, quickly batting her hands away from the next swan.

Cho woke with a grunt, on his feet immediately as Clarissa wailed at her father's stern tone. Jane got up and scooped her up in his arms. "You're in Trevor's room," he said to Cho. "Don't stay up on my account."

"Okay." Cho tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "You hear from Lisbon?"

"No. She was going to go to Stan's, so she's probably busy with all of them," Jane said. "Merry Christmas, Kimball. I'm glad you're here."

Cho smiled. "Thanks for taking us in, and Merry Christmas to you too, Patrick." Then he made a face. "That's weird. I'll stick to Jane."

Jane chuckled. "That's fine. Sleep well."

"Always do," Cho said as he came over to give Clarissa a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Clarissa."

"G'night Uncle Cho," she said, dimpling, her earlier unhappiness forgotten.

Jane followed him up the stairs, saying to Clarissa, "If that's how you treat those ducks on our pond, no wonder they run away from you."

"Ducks run," she agreed, yawning.

She was asleep by the time he got her into her pajamas, and he tucked her in gratefully. Then he hurried downstairs and pulled the presents and stockings out, arranging the presents under the tree and hanging the stockings from the mantle over the dying fire.

Then he carefully smoothed out the crumpled swan, rewrote the line on a clean sheet, and folded another. His signature went into a paper heart, and then he tucked the ornaments into branches in order from the star down to the heart. He hoped the tree would stay intact until Teresa had a chance to read her letter.

Pulling out his phone, he was disappointed there were no messages. He texted Teresa a simple "Love you" but there was no immediate reply. She must be busy, since her phone should be recharged by now.

He felt too restless to go to bed yet, so he stretched out on the couch to watch the embers glow in the fireplace. After a while he dozed off, waking only when he heard a key in the front door lock. Had Cho gone out to get something from his car?

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming as Teresa walked in the door, quietly setting her suitcase by the door while she wrestled out of her coat. "You're here!"

She jumped a little. "Patrick! I thought you'd be in bed."

Jane sprang up and engulfed her in a hug. "Welcome home! You're all wet."

"It's raining," she replied, hugging back. "Warm front coming through. Is Cho here?"

"Yes, he and Wylie both took shelter from the ice storm earlier." He pulled back to kiss her soundly. "We had a lovely Christmas dinner. I saved you some."

"Thanks. I'm glad you weren't alone with the kids tonight. I see you got the tree up." She smiled, then leaned against him. "I love the ornaments."

"Good. I made them especially for you."

"All I've been able to think about for the past four hours is crawling into bed with you," she said, yawning.

Jane glanced at the mantle clock and realized it was three o'clock in the morning. "Let's do it." He kissed her again. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, my love." He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom.

mmm

Later that morning, Jane woke up when Teresa extracted herself from his arms. He smelled coffee and realized Cho must be up; the scent had obviously woken Teresa. Deciding the two FBI agents could handle things without him, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

A few minutes later, a shriek woke him as Clarissa spotted her mommy, and he gave in to the inevitable. Ambling into the kitchen, he saw with approval that someone had put the kettle on. Cho was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, but Teresa's mug sat abandoned while she cuddled her daughter in her lap. Jane had to smile at the beautiful picture they made, their dark hair mingling as Teresa bent to kiss Clarissa's rosy cheek.

They looked so much alike, and he thought, not for the first time, that if he spoiled Clarissa, it was partly because he wanted her to feel adored and protected as her mother hadn't been. In a way, being the best father possible to his daughter was a gift to Teresa, assuring her that history wouldn't repeat itself.

He couldn't deny that sometimes it was bittersweet watching Teresa and Clarissa together, reminding him of his memories of Angela and Charlotte. Despite his best intentions, guilt crept into his happiness.

Teresa looked up and smiled at him, her eyes going soft as she read his thoughts. He loved that she never seemed to mind him thinking about his first family and didn't try to divert his thoughts, patiently waiting for him to rejoin her in the present.

"I'll go see how the boys are doing," he said. "Then I'll get breakfast started."

"Morning, Daddy," Clarissa said, beaming at him but not letting go of her mother. Jane bent to kiss both his girls before he left.

It was going to be a perfect Christmas.

mmm

It was. Clarissa had a blast ripping paper off her presents, which the boys had fun ripping to pieces. Cho and Wylie enjoyed playing with the kids and liked the gifts Jane had gotten them.

"Sorry I don't have anything to give you guys," Wylie said.

Jane replied, "Your help last night was the best gift you could have given, Jason. Trust me. And now that all the gifts have been opened, it's time for breakfast. Prepare to be amazed!"

Wylie grinned as Jane got up and headed for the kitchen.

Teresa checked in periodically, but Jane had everything well under control. They all sat down to an extravagant breakfast and enjoyed themselves immensely. When they were finished and still looking at a table full of food, Cho joked, "You cooked enough for the Rigsbys too."

"I guess I did," Jane chuckled. "Too bad they went to Iowa this year. I hope you two are prepared to take leftovers home."

"Heck yeah," Wylie said.

"We should be going," Cho said, glancing out the window. "Looks like it's just rain now, and we've got an open case."

Teresa said, "Duty calls, right? I'm glad you were able to celebrate with us."

"Thanks for taking us in," Cho said.

"Anytime," Jane assured him.

By the time he packed up containers of food and saw their guests on their way, the boys were showing signs of falling asleep, and Clarissa was absorbed by her play kitchen, which Jane had taken great delight in buying, and her baby doll from Uncle Cho. Teresa put the boys down for their nap, and as she came back downstairs she paused by the desk, picking up the crumpled piece of paper that had been a swan.

Frowning in disappointment, she said, "You didn't get a chance to write a whole letter, I take it."

Jane grinned. "Yes, I did."

"Where is it?" She looked as if she might be prepared to conduct a grid search.

He loved how greedy she was for her letters. "Right in front of you, my dear."

Teresa quickly rifled through the papers on the desk. "Where?"

Chuckling, he took the single sheet and folded it back into a fairly woebegone swan. Teresa took the hint and turned to stare at the tree. "It's in the ornaments?"

"Yes."

She reached for one, then paused, glancing at Clarissa, who was carefully arranging pots and pans on her wooden stovetop. "I don't want to destroy the tree on Christmas morning."

Jane grinned at her expression, which told him she was seriously considering doing so as soon as their daughter left the room. "There's no need. Because I have a copy." He tapped his temple. "Up here."

"Well?" she demanded.

He knew his grin was the one that, over the years, had made her want to punch him to various degrees. He turned her back around to face the tree, sliding his left arm around her waist and taking her right hand in his, then lifting it to touch the star. "My dearest Teresa," he murmured, gratified by the way she shivered. "You are my Polaris, the bright beacon by which I navigate my life, always there to save me when I am lost."

He moved her hand down to the first frog, touching each ornament as he recited the lines hidden in them. "But you also illuminate parts of my life I thought I knew well, bringing out new facets for me to consider."

"Seeing Christmas through your eyes gives it a depth of meaning it never held for me before, especially now that our family has grown.

"I see the memories in your eyes as you talk about what you want this holiday to be like for our children, and I know how much it means to you to share your faith with them as they grow.

"I have benefitted so much from your forgiveness over the years, and I know that your capacity for forgiveness is rooted in your faith and in this celebration of the divine mercy you were taught to emulate.

"I may never truly understand your beliefs, but I can appreciate that they helped shape you into the marvelous person you are.

"I could not wish better for our children than that they have hearts as kind, strong, loyal, and loving as yours.

"So I promise you that I will never interfere with or mock the religious observances that make Christmas meaningful for you and, in time, our children, even though I don't share your belief in them.

"I share this, though: as you express gratitude for your savior, I express gratitude to you for being mine.

"You saved me from madness, even before you really knew who I was.

"Your caring and kindness lit my world when everything else was shrouded in darkness, a single point of light in my abyss.

"Now you have filled my life with so much light in so many ways that there is hardly room for the smallest shadow.

"I hope that my love for you brings you joy and that you know your love for me brought me not only joy, but life.

"Thank you for making me the man I am: the husband, father, and friend I could never have been without you.

"Gratitude is the foundation of all other virtues, so any virtue I can lay claim to is entirely your doing.

"Thank you, and Merry Christmas, my love. Patrick."

Teresa turned in his embrace and wound her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes glowing with unshed tears. "Not just for the letter, but for everything. For loving me."

"That is not only easy, but involuntary. Like breathing," he whispered.

"No. I know I'm not always easy to love. But you never stop. And you've given me this family I never thought I could have. I'm thankful for you, Patrick. Every day. You're...you're my hero."

Jane was touched. "And you're mine."

"Merry Christmas, Patrick." She leaned her head on his shoulder, and they swayed a little as they held each other.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa," he replied.

They enjoyed their moment of quiet togetherness until Clarissa joined in, one little arm around a leg of each of her parents. "Merry Christmas!" she shouted, beaming up at them.

"Merry Christmas, lightning bug," Teresa smiled as Jane bent to hoist her into his arms.

Jane held them both and smiled. This was the best Christmas yet. But he bet they'd continue to get better every year.

He couldn't wait to find out.


	6. Anniversary

**Author's Note: **Happy Jisbon anniversary everyone!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Anniversary**

"No, it's okay. These things happen," Jane said with a calm he didn't feel. "Get well soon, Laurel. Don't worry about us."

He hung up the phone and sighed. With their nanny sick and Cho and Wylie out of town on a case, he was fresh out of childcare options. His next call would be to cancel his dinner reservations, and then he'd need to come up with a plan for dinner at home to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. All before it was time to get the twins up from their nap and pick Clarissa up from preschool.

It wasn't like their anniversary was always a big deal. Their first one had been a simple dinner at home, since neither of them wanted to leave their five-month-old daughter with a babysitter. They could spend their fifth anniversary with four-year-old Clarissa and the twins, who would be three next month. There wouldn't be any leisurely eating or gazing into each other's eyes, but there would be love and laughter and possibly a food fight.

He contemplated grocery shopping with his three children, then decided to use the delivery service he'd found a couple years ago. Teresa disliked it because it was expensive, but she'd never tried to herd their active, curious, fearless children through a grocery store by herself. He had.

Once.

Grabbing the tablet Wylie had given him last Christmas, he double checked the recipe for Teresa's favorite mushroom steak topping and the chocolate mousse he wanted to make, then checked the refrigerator to make sure he had enough chicken fingers and mac and cheese for the kids. He didn't want any battles at the dinner table tonight.

After placing his order, he sat down at the desk in the living room. This would be his last chance today to compose a letter for his wife, which she would love more than any piece of jewelry. Since he had planned to go shopping this afternoon while Laurel looked after the kids, it was also his only feasible option.

But what to say? Usually the letters came naturally, while he was in the grip of some strong emotion. Setting out to write a letter for the sake of writing a letter was new. And an anniversary was something of an arbitrary reason, an accident of the calendar more than a meaningful moment.

Except, he thought, it _was_ meaningful. Five years. Five wonderful, hectic, crazy, miraculous years married to an amazing woman who somehow loved him and had given him three adorable, incredible children. That was meaningful. That should be celebrated every single day.

Smiling, he began to write.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_On this, our fifth anniversary, my plans to make our evening a special occasion have fallen through, so we will not be dressing up and going to a restaurant where you will be nervous because there are no prices on your menu and exasperated by weird pieces of silverware you have no idea what to do with. As I write that, I realize those plans were more for my pleasure than yours, so it's just as well they fell through. I suspect you'll enjoy a nice steak at home much more. I will do my best to see that we have a lovely evening._

_I wish all our evenings could be lovely, but given human nature and just life generally, I know they won't all be. But I want you to know that every day with you is a special occasion for me. Some nights I'm afraid to fall asleep because I'm worried I'll wake up in a dreary motel room and find this was all a dream, so every morning that I find myself beside you feels like winning the lottery. Even if you're cranky and caffeine deprived and I'm exhausted from getting up with the kids at night, I wouldn't trade my life now for anything._

_Five years. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that we stood outside our new home surrounded by our friends and family and officially pledged ourselves to each other. I transformed that day, going from widower to your husband, and there are no words to describe the boundless joy I felt. To belong to someone again meant so much to me, more than I think I ever told you._

_I felt unwanted as a child, as you know, and when Angela married me it was like a great big sign to the world that somebody wanted me. That she felt I was worth having. That there was something she saw in me that she loved. And when she and Charlotte were taken away from me, it was as if I were found unworthy after all. Until you pressed me into service solving crimes, giving me a purpose and a place to be while I sought my revenge, I thought I would never be valued by anyone again._

_Did you know you were saving my life that day? I'm not sure you did. And you kept saving it, not just by keeping criminals from killing me but by letting me know that you cared about me. At the moment I achieved my revenge and thereby removed my main purpose for living, I felt a crushing emptiness and thought my life was done—until I thought of you and knew it wasn't, if only because I didn't want to cause you grief. At least, not any I could avoid._

_I'm so grateful your image came to me and sent me off to learn to live again. What I would have missed if I'd ended my story there. If it were a fairy tale, you would be the good fairy keeping me on track with advice, encouragement, and timely intervention. But you are also the beautiful princess who makes the hero's suffering worthwhile and is critical to the happily ever after._

_So on this day when we pause to celebrate the anniversary of our marriage, I want to be sure I say this: thank you. For every smile, every kiss, every time you have made me feel wanted, thank you. For each of our children, their smiles, their laughter, their mischief, thank you._

_But as grateful as I am for our past, I am even more grateful for our future, the promise of years to come. Though the future is unpredictable, your love gives me the confidence to face it. Our love creates our future, so whatever happens, I know it will be beautiful. And no matter how many anniversaries we celebrate, I promise that I will be thankful for each one._

_And someday there will likely be an anniversary you will face alone. On that day, know that I loved you boundlessly, without end. And that you are, always, with each breath you take, adored as few people have ever been or will ever be._

_Happy anniversary, my love._

_Patrick_

Jane folded the letter, smiling as the sound of little feet running across the floor upstairs reached him. A few seconds later, Connor rumbled down the stairs and climbed into his daddy's lap, his dark bangs falling into his face.

"You need a haircut, young man," Jane said.

"No!" Connor replied. It was his answer to most things, so it wasn't an unexpected response.

"Is your brother awake?"

"Huh uh. Snack time?"

"Yes, it is. Let's go get Trevor and you can eat in the car." Though it was actually an SUV, since they needed to fit three car seats in the rear. Jane couldn't wait until they were old enough for him to buy something more distinctive.

Connor insisted on jumping up the stairs, so Jane insisted on holding his hand. Trevor woke up with a smile, having inherited his father's sunny nature, and was amenable to getting into his car seat for Cheerios and a juice box. Connor was hungry enough that he only put up a token fuss, and soon they were on their way.

Clarissa was bright and eager to learn, and Jane had found her a place in a Montessori school that she loved. Sometimes she didn't want to leave, but today she looked up from her work and beamed at her father and brothers. "Are they coming here too?" she asked.

"Soon," Jane said. They'd be able to enroll once they were three, and it would be good to channel Connor's energy and bring Trevor out of his shell. "Right now it's time to go home and make a surprise for Mommy."

"Yay!" Clarissa loved surprises and her mother, so she was doubly happy as she skipped along beside them. Jane literally had his hands full keeping a grip on the boys, so he was grateful she was on board with his agenda.

She told them all about her day as they drove home, with Connor occasionally breaking into her monologue to grab some attention for himself. There was some serious sibling rivalry in store for his two extroverts, Jane reflected. Thank goodness Trevor had his mother's more quiet nature, despite having his father's blond curls as opposed to his dark-haired siblings.

When they got home, Jane set Trevor up with a coloring book and Connor with a game on his tablet in parental control mode at the kitchen table, then put Clarissa to work as his sous chef. He didn't trust her with sharp knives yet, but he'd bought her special kid tools to help chop vegetables. She was also a great fetcher and carrier and could be trusted to tattle on her brothers if they misbehaved while his back was turned.

"Mashed potatoes?" she prompted hopefully as he finished the marinade for the steaks.

"Well, I was going to bake them, but we can mash if you like," he replied. The kids would be more likely to eat them that way, plus his little helper loved mashing potatoes.

"Yay!" She clapped her hands and bounced up and down with excitement, making Jane smile. He loved to see her happy. She looked so much like her mother, except for her sea blue eyes, and he thought little Teresa must have looked like this when she was excited. He was resolved that Clarissa would stay happy and carefree for as long as possible.

Before he started the actual cooking, he checked his phone to make sure he hadn't missed any messages. Teresa would be on time unless there was an emergency, but cyber criminals didn't keep business hours and she hated to leave her team if they were on to something.

No messages awaited, so she should be home in an hour or so. He'd tried not to get his hopes up too much, but now he let himself savor the anticipation of the evening.

Connor had grown bored and left the table, and he and Clarissa were squabbling over the building blocks strewn across the hearth. Jane eyed the living room critically and decided drastic measures were called for. "Who wants to have a dance party?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Me!" all three children shrieked.

"Great! But you know we have to clean up first so nobody trips over anything. All toys upstairs, quick as you can!" He grabbed the nearest toy, setting off a mad scramble to see who could carry the most toys upstairs the fastest. His children were fierce competitors, like their mother, and soon the living room was free of toys and he was declaring Trevor the winner, to the loud protests of his siblings.

"You might have won, Clarissa, if you and Connor hadn't fought over who got to carry the dump truck," Jane pointed out. "But Trevor made one whole trip while you two were yelling and wrestling. Remember that next time. But now it's time to dance, and since Trevor won, he gets to pick the first song."

"The yeah-yeah song!" Trevor declared.

Jane kept smiling as he plugged his phone into the speaker docking station and pulled up the kids' playlist. He hated the pop music made for children, but it was usually pretty good to dance to, and the jazz he and Teresa preferred wasn't always. The music wasn't the main thing, anyway; he just wanted to get them moving. With any luck he'd wear them out enough that they'd go to bed with a minimum of fuss.

Jane started bouncing around as the music started, and the kids followed suit, giggling and trying to outdo each other. Once he'd gotten them going, he slowed to a swaying shuffle to conserve his energy, since he was woefully outmatched in that department.

He twirled Clarissa around, making her shriek with glee, then tried to teach them all a line dance, which would have worked better if the boys knew or cared what a line was. Jane changed tactics and grabbed hands, pulling them all into a circle to spin around. Then he smoothly stepped out, clapping and watching until the end of the song.

Three songs later, he was out of breath and sat down for a minute, until Clarissa grabbed his hands and pulled him back to his feet. He was swinging her around the room in a boisterous two-step when the door opened and Teresa came in, grinning as she took in the scene. "You guys are partying without me?"

"Mama!" She was immediately tackled by all three children, and Jane admired the deft way she put down her briefcase and knelt to hug them without getting knocked over.

"We're dancing!" Clarissa said.

"I see that," Teresa replied. "Where's Laurel?"

"Sick," Jane told her. "Now that you're here to lead the dancing, I'll go start dinner." He leaned in to kiss her hello, smiling at her as they parted. "Happy anniversary, my dear."

"Happy anniversary, Patrick," she replied, returning his smile.

Just as he turned to head to the kitchen, the song changed, and "September" began to play. He turned back to her and held out his hand, which she took. "Our song," she murmured as he pulled her close.

"Mm hm," Jane agreed, moving them into a slow dance that was not at all appropriate for the music. The kids bounced, jumped, and spun around them, laughing with joy. "When you told me, I never imagined this."

"Me neither," she admitted.

"Isn't it great?" he grinned.

She beamed at him. "Yes."

They stopped dancing, mostly because he couldn't breathe enough to keep moving while kissing her so deeply. He lost himself in the moment, the feel of her arms around him and her lips moving against his, until Clarissa wrapped her arms around his thighs, followed by her brothers wanting in on the family hug.

Jane pulled back enough to bask in Teresa's glowing smile—until her stomach growled, loud enough to be heard over the music. The kids erupted in laughter, and Jane grinned. "And there's my cue to start dinner."

"I didn't get any lunch," she admitted.

"Then I will bring you a snack so you can keep dancing while I cook," he said, claiming one last kiss before letting her go and heading for the kitchen.

As he worked in the kitchen, he enjoyed the sound of his family singing at the tops of their lungs. There was not a singing contest winner among them, he had to admit, but it was a beautiful sound to him nonetheless.

mmm

Dinner went smoothly, and then Jane supervised baths, handing clean children off one by one to Teresa for story time and kisses goodnight. When all three were tucked in and quiet, she joined Jane on the couch, smiling a little at his rolled up sleeves and damp hair. She was delightfully rumpled herself from the dancing earlier but didn't look tired. He was glad, because he was hoping their night was just getting started.

"Best anniversary dinner yet," she told him. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you liked it."

"I did. And now it's time for gifts." She got back up and unlocked her briefcase, then returned with an envelope.

Jane was intrigued. "You wrote me a letter?"

"No. Better. I got my leave approved, so I arranged our family vacation." She handed him the envelope, and he opened it to find an itinerary to Los Angeles. "Disneyland. The Rigsbys are joining us for the first two days. Then we'll all drive up to San Francisco. We can run over to Sacramento if you want."

He knew she meant he could visit Angela's and Charlotte's graves. "Thank you," he said, touched. He usually made all the arrangements for family outings, so this was a big surprise. "How did you know I wanted to take the kids to Disneyland?"

"All that princess stuff in Clarissa's room," she chuckled. "I didn't have to be a psychic to figure that out. Anyway, it'll be great to see Wayne and Grace and the kids. Maddie's only a year or two older than Clarissa, and Ben's old enough to help wrangle the boys. We might even get some grownup time."

He leaned forward to kiss her. "My favorite."

"Now, where's my present?" she asked, trying and failing to disguise her eagerness.

Jane smirked. "With no nanny, what makes you think I had time to go shopping?"

"Don't be mean," she chided.

He chuckled. "Okay. It's not as grand as yours, though, so I may have to buy you some Minnie Mouse ears. And a diamond or two."

She gave him a look. "I spent enough money for the both of us. Simple and inexpensive will suit me fine."

"Good." He pulled the letter from behind the couch cushion and handed it to her.

Teresa took it with the pleased eagerness some women reserved for jewelry or shoes. "You wrote me a letter!"

"I did, yes." He sat back to watch as she unfolded it and read it, fascinated as always by the emotions he read on her face: love, sadness, happiness, and finally sorrow.

Teresa leaned over to hug him, holding on tight, and he held her, rubbing her back to comfort her. Maybe it had been a mistake to mention the anniversaries she would face alone, he thought. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you too," she whispered back. "You say it so much better, but I mean it just as much. And I don't want you to think that it will ever be easy for me to lose you or that anything could ever comfort me if I do."

"I didn't mean to make you sad, darling." He kissed her temple. "I just never want you to forget, or doubt, how much I love you."

She sat back, and he wiped the glistening tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I know that," she said. "But it makes me sad that part of you is always thinking about loss."

"Not always," he protested.

"Whenever you're happy, there's always this thought in the back of your mind that you could lose what you love," she persisted. "I see you do it, Patrick. It makes you a wonderful father and an unbelievable husband, but I wish, just once, you could forget the what-ifs and be really, truly happy."

"I do, sometimes," he said. "I was purely happy at our wedding."

She smiled, no doubt remembering his exuberant hugs. "I know. I know you were. But then later, when we were sitting on the log, before I told you about Clarissa, you got quiet."

Jane swallowed. "Yeah. I was thinking how lucky I was. And remembering, a little. I...guess it's all tangled up for me, love and loss. I'm sorry that it makes you unhappy, but—"

"Not unhappy. Just...sad for you. Because I want you to be happy, Patrick. You deserve to be." She stroked his cheek.

"You make me happy, Teresa. You and Clarissa and Connor and Trevor. You make me happier than I ever thought possible after losing Angela and Charlotte. But I can't forget, not for long. I have to remember how quickly you can all be taken away so I don't get complacent or cocky. I...it's my way of keeping it from happening again, I suppose."

Teresa rubbed her hand along his arm. "I understand," she said softly. She swallowed. "Every time I drive away from this house I say a prayer that I'll come back safely, that you won't be left waiting and wondering, calling my phone until someone comes to the door and you're left stunned, wondering how you'll ever tell the kids."

Jane grabbed her in his arms again, terrified by the picture she was painting. She held him, whispering, "Ssh. Sorry. I just wanted you to know you're not the only one who can't let go of the past. We both have our little rituals, trying to convince ourselves history won't repeat itself."

He let out a sigh, grateful for her understanding. "Yes. But it doesn't mean I'm not happy, Teresa. I am. I'm happier than every other man on this planet, because I get to live with you and raise our family. And," he added, nipping gently at her earlobe, "on very special occasions, make love with you."

She hummed a little. "I guess this is a special occasion."

"Yes, it is. But not just because it's our anniversary. Every day with you is special, Teresa."

"I feel the same way," she said, pulling back to smile at him.

He grinned at her. "Well, that's lucky," he said, making her laugh a little at the memory the phrase evoked.

"You are a lucky man," she said, getting to her feet and tugging at his hands. "And I am a lucky woman. So let's celebrate."

"By getting lucky?" he teased, standing.

She gave him a saucy grin right back. "Unless you'd rather talk all night."

"I'm good," he assured her, keeping hold of her hand as he followed her toward the bedroom.

He was, he reflected. He was good, and he was lucky, and he was happy.


	7. The Happiest Place on Earth

**Author's Note: **Warning: this is about as fluffy as I can possibly be. Happy holidays to each and every one of you! I'm so grateful for this fandom, my fellow writers, and all the readers. Thank you for still being here!

This is for Hayseed Socrates, who asked for the Disney vacation. I'm not sure this is what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Happiest Place on Earth**

They were a disreputable looking lot indeed, Jane thought as he caught sight of the mirrored back of the elevator. Between the pirate and Star Wars costumes and various food stains, he, Connor, and Trevor looked like they'd narrowly escaped some kind of apocalyptic fictional food war. Rigsby and Ben looked little better. Actually, Rigsby was pulling off the eyepatch and cock-eyed hat better than he was, Jane had to admit, and Ben's Jedi robes were only slightly bedraggled.

It was the end of the first day of the joint Jane and Rigsby family vacation to Disneyland, and Jane wasn't sure he was going to survive another. Teresa and Grace had taken Clarissa and Maddie off for princess makeovers after lunch, much to Teresa's chagrin, and Jane now wished he'd traded places with her. Surely an afternoon of watching his four-year-old daughter discover makeup and frilly dresses would have been easier than keeping his twin three-year-old sons from looting the entire park. Fortunately, Ben Rigsby was now eight and able to assist rather than add to the chaos, though he also dragged his father onto rides the twins were too young for, so the assistance was intermittent at best.

"No offense, man," Rigsby said as the elevator began rising, "but I think this is a night to stay in and order pizza."

"Yay!" Ben said.

Jane smiled. "I was thinking room service myself. Once I sit down, I'm not getting up again."

Rigsby nodded. "Me either. Hope Grace and Maddie aren't expecting to go to the fireworks."

"We can do it tomorrow," Jane said. He knew his kids wanted to see the show, but right now Trevor was yawning and leaning against his leg, and Connor was passed out on his shoulder, drooling a little.

The elevator stopped, and Ben bounded out, followed by his father. "See you at the character breakfast," Rigsby called over his shoulder.

"Seven a.m.," Jane confirmed as the doors slid shut.

Five floors later, it was his turn to get off, leading Trevor and ignoring his aching shoulder where Connor was getting heavier with every step. He was glad he'd sprung for the wristband that served as both room key and charge card, instead of having to dig for a key card; the door swung open easily.

The lights were on, but the suite was eerily quiet, so he gathered Teresa and Clarissa were somewhere else, maybe gone to get a snack. But as he led the boys into the living area, he grinned in amazement at the sight of not one, not two, but four princesses slumbering on the couches.

Before he could deal with that, he had to get his little pirate and Jedi knight safely stowed. Both boys were too sleepy to protest as he laid them down on twin beds in the third bedroom, so he left them as they were. He'd get them cleaned up later.

Then he went to contemplate the sleeping beauties. Clarissa had made him something of an expert on Disney princesses, so he was able to recognize Grace's outfit as Merida from Brave. Fitting, he thought. Maddie had auburn hair like her mother and made an adorable Anna from Frozen.

He was not at all surprised that Clarissa had dressed up like her current favorite, Jasmine from Aladdin, clutching a huge stuffed tiger that Jane was sure they were going to have to buy a plane seat for. He'd been fending off pleas for a pet tiger for months now and had taken to searching cat adoption websites for a big friendly orange tabby he could designate an honorary tiger.

But it was Teresa who held his attention the longest. Clarissa must have outdone herself to get her tomboy mother into a bona fide ballgown, he thought, chuckling as he pictured the negotiations. Left to herself, Teresa would surely have chosen one of the warrior types like Mulan, but her daughter had persuaded her into the guise of her second favorite princess, Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

She was gorgeous in the overdone golden frills, he had to admit. If he weren't so certain this was Clarissa's doing, he'd be a little uncomfortable with the implications of the choice. Though he supposed the metaphor wasn't too far fetched: she had actually saved him by teaching him to love (although in his case, to love again was more accurate).

Oh, he was going to enjoy teasing her about this. And the sight was too precious to entrust solely to his memory palace, so he pulled out his phone and took a few pictures.

Than he went over to the nearest couch and leaned down to whisper in Grace's ear, "Wakey wakey."

She blinked, frowning, then opened her eyes. He held a finger to his lips, so she didn't say anything, looking around and relaxing. He wondered if she'd for a moment thought they were back in the CBI.

Quietly, he said, "I hate to inform your highness, but your room has been invaded by an acceptably swashbuckling pirate and a very earnest Jedi knight, who are probably having sword fights on the furniture as we speak."

She grinned, matching his volume as she sat up. "Well, at least I don't have to clean it up. You look like you've been battling pirates yourself."

"I survived only because of my superior ability to stay awake," he confirmed. "Need help with your feisty heroine?"

"No, I got this," she replied, pulling Maddie up into a sitting position. "Come on, Princess Anna. Time to go show off your outfit for Daddy and Ben."

Maddie blinked, yawned, and let her mother help her to her feet. "G'night, Uncle Patrick," she murmured as they headed for the door.

"Sleep tight, Princess," he said, smiling. The Rigsbys had been some of the best friends he'd ever had, and it brought him great joy to see them happy.

But his own family was his greatest joy. As exhausting as the boys could be, he wouldn't trade a moment spent with them for anything. And his girls...not a day went by when he wasn't thankful and astonished to have his beautiful daughter and loving wife by his side.

Clarissa was getting too big to pick up, but he did anyway, wincing a little. The fabric of her costume crinkled and rustled, and she lifted one hand to rub at her eyes. "Daddy?"

"Yes, lightning bug. Did you have fun today?" He smiled at her as he headed for her room.

"Uh huh. We had a tea party."

"I'm sorry I missed that," he replied.

"Wait!" she demanded. "Rajah!"

Jane sighed, turning back to the couch to retrieve the stuffed tiger. "How did you talk Mommy into buying this?"

He noticed Teresa's mouth twitch and realized she was feigning sleep.

"I said please," Clarissa replied. "A lot."

"A lot a lot, I'll bet," he chuckled.

"Thirsty, Daddy," she protested as she realized he was taking her to her room.

"Okay." He tossed the tiger onto the bed and changed course for the kitchenette.

"I'm a big girl."

"Yes, you are. Does that mean you want down?"

"Huh uh. I don't need a nap."

"No, but Mommy and I do," he replied.

"What about dinner?"

"After naps," he said firmly.

She let out a loud sigh, looking just like her mother, as he put her down beside the table. Then he poured her a glass of water as she sat in one of the chairs. "If you can't sleep, you can watch some TV. Quietly."

"Okay," she said. TV was a treat, but after all, they were on vacation.

Deciding she was fine, sitting there kicking her heels and sipping her water, he went back to the couch, leaning down so he was only an inch from his wife's face. "If you're expecting me to kiss you awake, I think you've got the wrong movie," he whispered.

She smirked, opening her eyes. "I didn't exactly get a choice of roles."

"I figured as much." He kissed her sweetly. "Though I'll admit this story has parallels to ours."

Teresa frowned. "What, you're saying you're the beast?"

"No. But, in a way, I was when we met."

She sat up, forcing him to straighten up. "You were not," she insisted.

"Selfish, obsessed, isolated?" he reminded her.

"You always wanted justice, for others besides yourself. You were kind to children and others who were frightened or grieving. You were a good man. That's what I saw in you in the beginning." She struggled with all that skirt as she stood up, then crossed her arms in typical Lisbon fashion. "Maybe you told yourself you were cold and unfeeling, but you weren't."

He always enjoyed seeing her worked up, so he continued the argument. "The beast was always capable of love. He just needed to experience it. Just like I was capable of being a good person, but I needed a good example."

Her expression turned smug, and he realized she thought she'd come up with the winning argument. "But you never looked like a hideous beast. You always looked like the handsome prince."

Jane grinned. "A wolf in sheep's clothing," he suggested, then relented a little. "But you wanted a wolf, didn't you? Sheep bored you."

"I never said I was a princess."

"I did, though. An angry little princess setting out to bring her tiara thief to justice. I must say, I think that dress actually suited you better than this one."

She rolled her eyes. "I was hoping that humoring Clarissa would have a side benefit. But you don't have a princess fetish at all, do you?"

He shook his head. "Maybe if you'd been Princess Leia in the bikini outfit from Return of the Jedi. Come to think of it, you're about her height."

She slugged him lightly in the shoulder. "This was a makeover for little girls, not their kinky dads."

Drawing her into his arms, he started a slow waltz. "You like a little kink," he murmured in her ear.

"Not in my wardrobe," she muttered.

"Well, luckily for you, what really does it for me is pissed off homicide detective in a leather jacket."

She snickered. "That, I can do."

They danced together for a few minutes, until stomping feet told them they were no longer alone. "No, no, no. You're doing it wrong!" Clarissa cried.

Jane tried twirling Teresa, but she nearly fell into a chair in the way. "Yes, we need a proper ballroom," he said, trying very hard not to laugh.

Teresa's annoyance faded to amusement as she looked at him. "Or less furniture."

Clarissa folded her arms. "It's not the Princess and the Pirate!"

"Well, they weren't selling handsome prince costumes," Jane pointed out. "It was this or Sith Lord, and your mom is such a valiant heroine I knew she would defeat me easily, even without a light saber."

Teresa smirked.

"I figured she'd only arrest a mere pirate. Better odds of survival," he continued, winking at Clarissa.

Teresa murmured, "Have you always secretly wanted me to arrest you?"

Jane laughed. "Only for pretend."

Clarissa remained unconvinced. "Pirates don't dance with princesses."

"Well, maybe I'm a beast pretending to be a pirate. Aaaaaar! Raaaawr!"

Clarissa started giggling despite herself as he made fake roaring noises, holding his hands like claws and advancing on her. Then he scooped her up and tickled her, making her shriek with laughter. Teresa got in on the act, until they all ended up in a big hug.

"We only need one princess," Teresa said as they all sat down. "I'm just the bodyguard dressed up as the decoy."

"There you go," Jane said. "A sassy bodyguard would definitely dance with a pirate."

"If only to figure out what he's up to," she agreed. "And now that my real identity has been unmasked, I'm going to put my real clothes back on. What's the plan for tonight, scruffy pirate?"

"Naps, then room service."

"Fireworks?" Clarissa asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow," Jane said. "Tonight, we rest. It's a big day tomorrow, starting with breakfast with Mickey."

"Yay!" Clarissa jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

"Well," Teresa said, "since the princess and I have had our naps, I think we'll take a little walk before dinner and let you boys get some rest."

Jane pouted at her a little. "But I hate napping alone."

"Sorry, pirate. The princess needs me. I'll be back in a minute." She headed for the master bedroom.

Jane had Clarissa tell him all about her tea party while her mother changed, scrubbed her face, and redid her hair. When she emerged, she looked like herself again. He greeted her with a smile, because no makeover could ever make her more beautiful than she was as herself.

"C'mon, Princess. Let's go show you off to your adoring people," Teresa said, holding out her hand. "But we'd better leave Rajah here to keep an eye on all these pirates."

"Okay." Clarissa ran to get her stuffed tiger, placing him on the coffee table and whispering instructions into his ear.

Teresa gave Jane a kiss. "We'll be back in half an hour, before the boys wake up. Stay out of trouble."

"I'm much too exhausted to get into any trouble," he assured her. He waved goodbye as they left, then headed for the kitchenette to brew some tea to revive himself.

This vacation had been Teresa's gift to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary, and so far it had surpassed his expectations. It was their first big family trip, and the fact that she'd included the Rigsbys in their plan was a perfect touch. They'd made a new family in Austin, but they would always miss their old friends in California. It was fun to spend time with them without a case interfering.

They had one more day here, and then they planned to drive up the coast, showing the kids the state they'd met in. They'd finish up in Sacramento, which he had mixed feeling about. The kids weren't old enough to be told about his first family, and he wasn't sure he wanted to visit the cemetery alone. Or at all, really. He didn't want to think about Red John ever again, and he wouldn't be able to avoid it there.

Teresa was looking forward to visiting old haunts, and he bet she'd been in touch with Minelli as well. But there was no CBI anymore, at least not as they'd known it. And he wasn't big on revisiting the past in any case.

So he would focus on the fun. That's what this trip should be about: having fun as a family. He loved that she'd thought to plan all this. Seeing magic through their children's eyes was precious, and the opportunities would only get more rare as they grew.

Already his role as a full-time caregiver was almost over, since the boys would start at Clarissa's Montessori school in the fall; he'd be free to go back to part-time consulting if he wanted. He wasn't sure he did, but he knew he needed to fill his hours somehow. He could be sure Cho would bring him interesting cases, and though cybercrime wasn't his specialty, there were still people involved he could help Teresa catch.

They were at a turning point, he realized. The kids were starting to expand their world outside their home. They still needed him, and would for years to come, but they were taking the very first steps into their individual lives. In fifteen years or so, those steps would lead them away from home and into the wide world full time. He'd need something to fill the void when that happened, and he couldn't count on Teresa retiring early to travel with him.

Maybe work was the best thing, he thought. Could Teresa's gift be a subtle message to that effect, taking him back to where he'd learned he could be an investigator? From time to time she remarked that she missed working with him, but he knew she was glad he'd stayed home with their children too.

Much as he resisted it, change was part of a healthy life. Clarissa, Connor, and Trevor were growing quickly, and no wishing on his part would freeze time. He shuddered a little as he thought that he wouldn't want them to end up like Charlotte, forever six years old, her future stolen. No. He wanted them to grow up and leave him behind, building their own lives. He didn't want to know the ends of their stories. His should end first.

The kettle whistled, startling him out of his reverie. As he brewed his cup of tea, his thoughts returned to the future. This time was special, but it didn't have to be unique. They should do this every year—not necessarily Disneyland, but somewhere they could leave their daily lives behind. Somewhere fun.

Yes. This would be the start of a new tradition. He smiled as he sat down at the table with his steaming cup. He would mark it with an older one. There were paper and a pen tucked the the drawer of the coffee table.

_My dearest Teresa,_

_I almost addressed this to my princess, but I know it would annoy you. The sight of you all dolled up made me wish I had some sort of cartoon fantasy we could fulfill, but I wasn't kidding when I told you I had a thing for an annoyed cop in a leather jacket. Still, I loved the sight of you in costume because I knew it was evidence of both your love for our daughter and your willingness to play._

_Play is important, not just for children but for all of us. I know you often chalked up my whimsical moments at the CBI to a desire for mischief, but it wasn't always. I didn't remember how to love in the beginning, or much about how to live, but I never really lost the ability to play._

_There wasn't much room for play in my childhood. When I escaped my father I promised myself I'd take the time to enjoy life. When Charlotte was born I resolved that she would never be forced to work when she wanted to play._

_I bet you had plenty of chores to do as an older sister, didn't you? Work was your focus when we met, but I saw early on how it secretly delighted you when we played. Whether it was magic tricks or cons or poker, you loved having fun._

_And now, we both love having fun with our children. This trip is a great gift, time to focus on having fun together. No work, no chores, just play. Thank you._

_I propose we make this an annual event: at least once a year, we choose somewhere fun to go as a family. We'll leave all our cares behind us and play. We'll make wonderful memories, not just for the kids, but also for us to remember when they're grown and off living their own lives._

_Do you remember right before our wedding, we promised each other to always look on the bright side? Fun can be exhausting, especially with small children, but no matter how worn out we are, let's promise always to treasure the times when we play._

_This is called the happiest place on earth, but for me, happiness is not about a place. It's about my family. For me, the happiest place on earth will always be where you are._

_All my love,_

_Patrick_

mmm

There was plenty of playtime when the boys woke up from their naps. Clarissa commandeered them as her army and led them around the suite looking for evil wizards until the room service feast arrived. After dinner, he and Teresa wrangled the kids into baths and pajamas, then they all settled on the couches to watch a movie. It happened to be a musical, so they sang along at the top of their lungs. It would have been more harmonious if they could have agreed on a key, but everybody was laughing, and that was what counted.

The promise of breakfast with Mickey Mouse and another magical day sent the children reluctantly to bed only a little after their usual time. Jane had tucked the letter into Teresa's toiletries bag, so he wasn't surprised when she took longer than usual in the bathroom that evening.

He'd washed up and gotten into his pajamas first, so he waited patiently in bed, reading a book about the last queen of Hawaii. Now there was a possibility for family fun, he thought. Maybe when the kids were old enough to snorkel and learn to surf.

When Teresa emerged, she was wearing her usual sleep shirt, which surprised him a little. He'd been hoping for a little adult play.

She slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp on her side, then scooted over to put an arm around him and kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the letter. It was sweet. And of course I want us to take a fun family vacation every year, silly. Why do you think I did this?"

"I love it when we're on the same page," he smiled, putting his book aside.

She smiled back. "It makes me a little nervous."

He chuckled. "No need."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I always loved it when you played with me. With anyone, really. Except the people with the power to fire me."

"I'd never have made you lose your job for my amusement."

"I know. I feel sure if you hadn't had to flee the country, you would've figured out a way to either save the CBI or make Abbott hire me right away." He felt her smile against his neck.

"I would've done my best." He hugged her tightly. "I hated leaving you."

"I know." She hugged back. "But it all worked out in the end. Despite you being an idiot."

He knew he couldn't honestly dispute her point. "I don't deserve you."

"No," she chuckled. "Maybe not. But we don't get what we deserve in this life, so it's kind of a moot point."

He nuzzled her hair. "I guess that's true. Rigsby and Grace were both idiots and they ended up happy."

"True. Clarissa loves Maddie. I think she secretly wants a big sister, but only one who's polite enough to be bossed around."

Jane's heart ached as he bit back the fact that Clarissa did have a big sister, even if they'd never meet. Charlotte had been every bit as strong willed as her younger sister, though.

"Crap," Teresa breathed as she realized what he was thinking. "Patrick, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...to forget about Charlotte."

"It's all right," he soothed. "In a few years we can tell Clarissa she does have a big sister, though not one she can play with." He kissed her head. "She'll have to settle for her brothers, just like you did."

"But she'll have her daddy to have tea parties with," Teresa said. "And spoil her when she needs it."

"And her mommy to show her how to be a leader and kick ass," he said.

"I'm kind of glad we had a girls' day, even though I'd've been more comfortable playing pirate with the boys."

"It's good for us to switch it up now and then."

"True." She nuzzled his ear. "With all that talk of kinks earlier, you never did ask what mine is."

"You think I don't know?" He was amused.

"I think you think you know." Her voice was teasing.

"You mean there's something besides me in my suit? Or in my vest with the shirtsleeves rolled up? Or in my swim trunks? Or—"

Teresa laughed. "Or in pretty much everything besides prison wear. Yes, my range does extend beyond you."

"Don't tell me it's a mouse. Or Goofy. I may never be able to look you in the eye again if you embarrass me at breakfast. And remember, I'm a jealous man."

She put her lips to his ear. "When I was a girl," she whispered, "I always wanted to run off and become...a pirate."

Jane burst out laughing. "You did not."

"Oh yeah. When I was tired of being good all the time, I'd dream of running away and sailing the seven seas, finding treasure and having exciting sword fights." She sighed. "Of course, then I found out I got seasick, so there went that dream."

He leaned over to the nightstand and retrieved his costume pieces. "Do you want the eyepatch or the hat?"

She grabbed the hat. He had to admit she looked very fetching in it. "Aaaar."

He put on the eyepatch. "You're mighty little for a fearsome pirate, lass."

"And you've got a mighty big mouth for a one-eyed sea dog," she retorted, trying not to grin.

"Let's set sail and see what happens." He whipped up the sheet, making her laugh.

Yes, he thought. It was good to play.

Very good.


End file.
